Front Page News
by Magical Marnie
Summary: BACK FROM HIATUS! YAY! A collection of one-shots ranging from humor to fluff. Read and Review please! All questions or comments will be responded to through A/Ns. Suggestions are definitively welcome! Hope y'all like them!
1. Front Page News

**A/N This was originally supposed to be the alternate ending to my first Leviathan fan fiction, **_**Every Breath is for You. **_**However, I felt that the original ending that I had written was already good enough and plus I was really attached to it, so I did not have the heart to let it go. I have been meaning to type this up for around two months, but I dislocated my shoulder and haven't been able to type quickly and efficiently, so I just didn't. Why did I do it today of all days then? Well, I just got my sling off today and I can move my arm into typing position (I'm an anal typer that has to type the **_**right**_** way). So this is how I'm going to celebrate! Hope you enjoy this alternate ending turned One-Shot! **

**- Marnie **

I walk into the room where the Emperor and the Empress are waiting for me. I really hope they are not mad at the fact that I am dreadfully lat, but I find the two sitting comfortably on the loveseat set in the room. The Empress is sitting with her legs drawn up on the sofa, leaning comfortably into her husband. I was utterly surprised at the Empress' extremely short hair and the fact that she was wearing trousers. I sat in the armchair across from the couple uncomfortably, feeling their eyes resting on me as I tap the head of my recording frog, Fizzy, who is currently on my shoulder. I really do not know where to start.

"Hello," I say, trying not to sound like and amateur, even though I am. "My name is James Wellstein. I am so happy that you have agreed to have this interview." It had been very surprising when I, personally, got a call from a Count Volger, who was representing the Emperor, expressing the interest in an interview conducted by myself. I thought that it had been strange that they had requested me, especially since I had written a grand total of two articles in my lifetime. I was sure that it was a joke. The Empress and Emperor had gotten such horrid media attention that I hadn't even begun to imagine the possibility, yet here I am.

"We thought that it was time to forget what everyone has said about us in the past." The Emperor says solemnly, his eyes focusing on his wife now rather than on me.

"Aye," She agrees, "It's quite daft that social standing has to take precedent over love."

"The whole world was very surprised when you threatened to abdicate the thrown in favor of her Highness. Why did you?" I ask, trying not to look down at my notepad. I do not need to look at it. I am not going to forget my questions.

"I gave up so much for my country." He said, running his hand through his mahogany hair. "I thought that it was time that they do something for me in return."

I couldn't help it. I looked down at my notepad before asking the next question. "Your wedding was one of the most talked about events in the century, and the both of you... How can I put this kindly? Spat in the face of the Austrian monarchy." I say, trying not to be too opinionated on the matter. A good reporter is never biased, but the controversy of their wedding had been quite known.

"To hell with them!" Aleksandar exclaims, smiling. The Empress throws her head back in laughter and looks into her husband's eyes. The way that they look at each other makes it seem as if they haven't seen each other in years and must make up for every moment lost.

I gently clear my throat and give them both my most winning smile. "Your first act as Empress was to let women vote. What do you plan on doing next?" I ask.

The Empress fidgets in her seat a moment. Emperor Aleksandar gives her shoulder a small squeeze of encouragement. "It's still quite daft that women can't do the same things as men can. I suppose the next step would be to allow women to join the army."

"We can't simply let more women go through what Deryn went through in order to follow her dreams. So, we have been trying to get the council to agree to pass the law that women can enlist, but they still seem adamant about keeping things the same." Aleksandar adds.

"This is another thing I wanted to ask about. You implemented a constitutional Monarchy, and you now have a people's council. The last time that sort of government was used was during the French Revolution and it did not work very well for the French. Why use it in Austria?" I ask, truly curious as to the why he chose that particular system for the new administration of the country.

"The people of 18th Century France were not as educated as they are today. I just thought that it would be better if I worked with the people rather than with the aristocracy." He replies easily. I am surprised at the Emperor's knowledge of politics. Normally, rulers are indifferent to politics and have advisors to dictate their every move.

"I take it you don't need many advisors your Highness." I say. I should have gone into politics.

The formally present smile disappears form the Emperor's face, and he is suddenly very serious. His eyes dig into my own and he honestly makes me want to run away from the room in fear. "Throughout my entire life, people have told me what to do. They have dictated every move that I have to make, but that does not mean that I do not care about my country. That does not mean that I do not take interest in politics, and it does not mean that I simply shrug off my responsibilities."

"Here we go again," The Empress says, rolling her eyes. "Another round of 'the responsibilities of Aleksandar Ferdinand.'"

The Emperor shoots her a glare that could probably melt steel. I clear my throat once again. "So," I say awkwardly. I let my fingers rise up to the collar of my shirt and undo the first button. When did it get so hot in here? "Do you have any plans for the future? What's next?"

The Empress turns to face me and I am dazzled by her bright smile. "We're going to start a family now." She says. Her slender hands find her husband's and their wedding bands glisten together in the fabricated lights of the room. "In fact," she continues, "we're expecting right now."

I can just feel my mouth drop and my eyes popping out of their sockets. This is really going to be front page news.


	2. Crushed and Created

**A/N: I decided that instead of having just the original one-shot, I am going to post other one-shots on this story. I will update whenever, really. Hope you all like them. They will all probably be between 400 words up, just saying, and will probably have a lot of typos because I write these in a rush! I was listening to the song Crushed and Created by Caitlyn Smith while writing this (hence the title). **

Alek didn't want to be at the party. He would have much rather been with Deryn, where he would be on the couch, relaxing, probably listening to the radio, singing along, or maybe dancing. He smiled at the thought of her.

"Aleksandar?" A voice asked him, and he snapped back into the real world.

"Yes." He said, his eyes now focusing back at the boffin in front of him. "What was the question?"

Those British boffins could be so annoying with their pointless questions. No answer he gave was ever enough for them. There was always some controversy that he had to dissipate, some international conflict that he had to downplay for their sake. They might have been the most intelligent minds of the Allied Powers, but they knew nothing about world politics. At least not like he did. "What are your thoughts on the uprising in Germany? Do you think that there is another war coming along?" The boffin asked, his small round eyeglasses hung on his sharp, Roman nose. This particular boffin always seemed condescending to Alek, as if, because he was a Clanker, he was not as clever or important as the rest of them.

Alek sighed. He had already answered this question about a million times, and he would have to answer it another hundred times. "Yes. I have spoken to Lord Churchill about this matter and he does not agree with me at this current moment." That idiot, Churchill, wanted to ignore that madman that was on a rampage in Germany, the one who was pledging religious-based massacre. "He wishes to wait until he has just cause to attack."

"What are your wife's thoughts on this matter?" Another boffin asked. Alek recognized Dr. Andrews simply by his height. The man was nearly two meters tall and very hard to miss.

Alek smiled. Dr. Andrews was very fond of Deryn, and she reciprocated the feelings. They had learned so much from him. "She thinks that he is a _dummkopf, _as she herself would say."

"I'm just surprised that she hasn't sent an angry letter condemning him of treason." The doctor chuckled.

"I'm quite sure, that if she were in the condition, she would." He said. Out of the corner of his eye, Alek saw Count Volger approaching him, weaving himself through the crowd of bowler hat-adorning scientists. He tapped Alek on the shoulder to make his presence known and whispered something seemingly urgent into Alek's ear. Once the Count had finished, Alek's eyebrows furrowed for a minute but then his entire face lit up into a bright smile. "Excuse me gentlemen, but I must be on my way. Family matters." He said and ran out of the room. Literally ran, leaving Count Volger to handle the rest of the explanations.

Alek cautiously walked into the bedroom, careful not to make any noise. He didn't really have to worry, because no one was asleep. Deryn was propped up on the bed and holding a small, blanketed bundle in her arms. Her ears were as sharp as her name, because when Alek opened the door, she looked up, a wide smile plastered on her face. Her face was sweaty and there were bags under her eyes, and her hair was falling out of its loosely made bun. To Alek, she had never been more beautiful.

In the corner of the room, in the comfortable chairs that were laid in the room, sat Ma Sharp and Jaspert, obviously more tired from the delivery than Deryn. Alek walked over to the bed and sat down beside his wife, careful not to disturb the balance of the mattress springs.

"Can I hold him?" He asked, unsure of how to proceed in the situation. Alek had never been the most confident fellow in the world and improvisation was not as natural to him as it was to Deryn.

"Of course you can, you ninny!" She whispered teasingly, her eyes moving to the small slow-breathing bundle in her arms. "You're as responsible for his creation as I am." Deryn adjusted her arms and passed the baby to Alek. He was so small and fit perfectly in Alek's arms, as if the little boy had been designed to snuggle in his arms. "I haven't named him yet." She told him, slowly stroking her newborn son's soft, wrinkly skin. "I thought I'd wait for you."

"Hmm." Alek mumbled, agreeing. He was holding his little boy, his creation, his first-born child, and therefore had no ears for Deryn at that moment. He loved her, but he was simply mesmerized by his son's perfection.

"I was thinking of naming him Jean Bom Jacques Strap," she joked, sensing her husband's lack of attention. "Or Shithead. I've always liked Mildred, as well."

Alek nodded, but then took a minute to process what she had just said before realizing what was happening. "What?" He exclaimed.

"Shhh!" Deryn hissed. "He's sleeping!"

"You want to name our child Mildred! Our _son?" _Alek hissed back, heatedly.

"Of course not, you dummkopf! You weren't listening to me!"

Alek sputtered indignantly. "I was _too _listening to you!"

Deryn gave him a look of skepticism. "You were going to let me name our son Jacques Strap! Barking spiders! Thank Darwin that I'm the one who wears the pants in this house!" She exclaimed, wiping off the sweat on her face with her sleeve. "Everything goes in one ear, and right back out the same ear! It doesn't even go through your brain!"

"Your son is not even an hour old and you two are already fighting?" asked a groggy voice from the corner of the room. Both Deryn and Alek whipped their heads to face Jaspert's waking figure. "Name him Artemis." He said, rubbing his eyes. "After Da, and his middle name can be Ferdinand, after Alek's Da."

Deryn looked at Alek, who stared back into her eyes. In Alek's arms, the baby started to fidget, taking his little fists from the bundle in which he was wrapped. Alek looked to his small son as the boy opened his wide blue eyes. Deryn's eyes.

Alek smiled at his son, and looked at his wife once more. "Artemis Ferdinand Sharp-Chotek." He said. "That's a little long, but he's a Hapsburg. It's tradition."

Deryn throws her head back in laughter, taking one of Artemis' small fists into her much larger hand. "Hello there, Artemis." She cooed. "You have your grandda's eyes, you know. Big and blue, just like your ma and your uncle Jaspert."

"I'll leave you two alone." Jaspert said as he got up from his chair and walked over to the chair where his mother was sleeping. He swept Ma Sharp into his arms as if she weighed nothing and left the room. He was smiling as he left the small family in the bedroom. He had no doubt that they would start their bickering again soon.


	3. Movember OneShot!

**A/N: It's Movember and I thought that I'd do a one-shot that dealt with Volger and moustache dye. I have wanted to do this for quite some time. Enjoy!**

Deryn's eyes widened when she saw Volger stepping into the room. She could hardly contain her laughter and had to excuse herself from the room in order to release her built up laughter. The second that she stepped through the door she let out very loud guffaws.

Alek, who was in the room across the hall, heard this ungodly sound and stepped out into the hall, curious as to the source of the noise. When he saw Deryn, bright red as a tomato from laughter, he gave her a curious and confused look. Deryn's response to this was to grab Alek's hand and lead him to the doorway of the Library where she was just reading in, prior to Volger's entrance.

He did not need any explanation once seeing Volger. He just gasped at the sight and turned away from the door, his eyes scarred. "What in God's wounds...?" He began, but had no words to comment on what he had just seen.

"I know, right?" Deryn said in-between laughs.

"Who let Volger dye his moustache?" He asked, eyes wide in fear of whoever created this monstrous invention.

"I don't know, but whoever did was a genius." Deryn said, beginning to laugh quite loudly again. Deryn once again peaked into the Library, leaning carefully into the door.

Volger was standing at the help desk, talking to a very uncomfortable looking Librarian. His bright red moustache twitching as he talked. It looked as if there was a very bright red perspicacious Loris perched on top of his lip. Deryn turned back to the hallway and saw that Alek was standing, petrified in his spot. She waived a hand in front of his face but it was no use, his eyes were glazed over and his expression was blank.

"HELP! I NEED SOME HELP!" She yelled. To her surprise, Volger ran into the hallway immediately.

"What happened?" He asked, the red Loris-looking moustache twitching on his lip. Deryn tore her eyes away from the ghastly sight, hoping that it would not petrify her as well.

"Go away! Your moustache is emotionally scarring!"


	4. Here We Go Again

**A/N: I couldn't help it. I peered into the literal future of Alek and Deryn. I hope it's not too cheesy :/ Thanks to Jett-Wolfe98, Pony, and Awesomegoat for the comments, they are much appreciated! Jett-Wolfe98, I love your comments! Since the first fanfic, you have been a source of much laughter! **

**Feel free to make any suggestions! In fact, they would be much appreciated! I am awful at humor so if y'all could tell me something funny to write, that would be great! Thanks again and don't forget to review! - Marnie**

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><p>He had always expected that he would die first. He supposed that that's what he wanted, but life had a way of not letting him get what he wanted.<p>

Most days, it was bearable. The loss. Some days, he couldn't even get out of bed, because she wasn't there to share the morning with him. Then, there were days like that one.

Alek stepped out of the cab that he had taken to his son's house. Artemis stood at the door, awaiting his arrival. He took Alek's jacket and gave his father his arm for support as they slowly walked along the cobblestone path.

"Sorry that Julia isn't here to greet you right now, Da. She had to go pick up Jaspert from football practice." He said as he hung up his father's tweed jacket onto the coat rack. He sighed heavily. "I have no idea where Deryn's disappeared to."

Alek smiled, his green eyes had never quite lost their soft twinkle. "I'll go outside to look for her." He offered. Artemis seemed at a loss, but nevertheless, he nodded, letting his father have that one simple task.

Alek walked into the kitchen and then through the sliding doors that led to the patio and furthermore to the vast back garden. He was glad that his son had built rails for the steps of the patio; his arthritic knees needed all of the support that they could get.

The back garden was large. That was the best way to describe it, really. There were trees everywhere you looked, and the grass seemed to be as endless as the see under the _Leviathan_ had once been. Alek walked, carefully watching the trees for any sign of his granddaughter. He kept walking between the trees, walking beneath the shadows cast by the sunlight hitting each individual leaf on each individual branch. There were all sorts of trees, but there was one in particular that he was looking for, the largest and most majestic tree in the entire field.

It was an oak tree. It would take seven people holding each other's hands to measure the circumference of the tree trunk alone. The branches of the tree were tangles together in a mesh of organized chaos, weaving between one another, a large branch fed off into smaller branches, supporting them.

She was on the fourth topmost branch of the magnificent tree, her blonde hair catching the light perfectly. She was an image of her namesake at that age. The same short hair and stubborn scowl on her face as she leaned back onto the trunk of the tree from her branch.

"Stupid, dummkopfs..." She mumbled as she angrily scratched out something in her sketchbook, "think they can tell _me _what to do."

"What did they try this time, _liebe?_" Alek asked. Deryn visibly jumped at the sound of her grandfather's voice, accidentally dropping her sketchbook. The worn leather book tumbled down from the fourth topmost branch and landed with a soft thud, on the grass below.

Deryn swore softly under her breath. Alek walked over to where the sketchbook lay, and gingerly picked it up. He recognized it as the one that her grandmother had given her for her tenth birthday, the last birthday before her death, five years prior. His wife had rebound it herself as a present for her granddaughter.

"Hi grandda." She greeted, when she had her feet on solid ground. Deryn sunk herself into her grandfather's arms. They had always been very close, especially since her grandmother's death. They shared the loss of her together.

"Hello, darling." He said into her hair, inhaling the scent of trees and dirt that wafted from her. "How are you?"

Deryn tore herself from her grandfather's arms and crossed her arms. "I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth.

"No, you're not. Don't try that with me, Deryn. You're exactly like your grandmother, same temperament, just a different generation." He teased. Deryn often drove her parents mad with her crazy and impulsive nature. Only Alek understood her need to fly away from the normal. She was as extraordinary as her grandmother had been.

Reluctantly, Deryn's scowl shattered and she fell to the ground, kneeling in the grass. "I'm just so _mad._" She admitted.

Alek eased himself down to the ground slowly, sitting next to her. "I see that, but why are you mad?"

"Remember how I applied to that amazing art school in New York a few months ago?" She asked, now yanking blades of grass out of the ground and tearing them into minute pieces.

"Yes." How could he forget? It was all that she had talked about for months. Raved, really. That fancy art school in New York where all of the best and most famous artists had come from.

She looked pointedly at the blade of grass between her long slender fingers. "I got in."

Alek's eyes widened with happiness. "You got in?" He asked excitedly. He had prayed for this. "That's amazing!"

"Yes, it really is." She admitted. "But ma and da don't want to let me go." Alek pursed his lips.

"This really is a pickle." He muttered quietly. Alek wanted Deryn to do what she wanted but he did not want to cross his son.

"It is!" Deryn exclaimed. "And the worse of it is that they're being completely unfair! I mean, I can survive outside the walls of the house. I'll be okay outside of Glasgow! I'm not a little girl anymore!" She threw her arms up for emphasis, adding to the dramatic monologue that was about to ensue. "I know that I'm Da's little girl and all, but I'm going to have to leave sooner or later. Does he just expect me to stay here forever? He thinks that I'm never going to go to university, or meet a boy, or get married. He can't keep me forever!"

Alek sighed. "Your father knows that. He wants to protect you from the world, Deryn. It's not his fault that he cares. He's a father, it's in the job description." He puts his old veined hand on her shoulder. "When your father was around your age, he decided that he was going to go to Paris to study biology for a year. Your grandmother nearly had a heart attack just thinking about it. It took her _three months_ and a lot of safety precautions to convince her to let him go. She stayed with him for two weeks to make sure that she had made the right choice." Deryn let out a small laugh.

"Was Da embarrassed?" she asked, her eyes clearly showed her amusement at the thought.

He nodded. "Terribly. He wanted to hide when she followed him into his first class." Deryn let out a very loud laugh and fell back on the grass, rolling with laughter. Alek grinned at her, remembering when his wife had done the same after seeing Bovril with a fake moustache on a particularly humorous Halloween. "I will talk to your father." He said to her as she began gathering her faculties. "I'm quite sure we still own a flat in New York anyway. You can stay there with me if he has any other issues with the matter."

"Really," Deryn asked, her eyes lighting up at the possibility.

"I promise." Alek assured her. Deryn threw her arms around her grandfather, and ran back to the house.

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><p>Alek sat in the small, New York flat watching the television and waiting for Deryn to come back from the party that she was at with her friends. She was late for her curfew, but Alek did not mind. She was a teenager after all, and she should have her freedom.<p>

The lock on the door was unlocked and it slid open with only a creak. Deryn carefully stepped across the threshold, saying a playful "shush," to whoever was behind her. Alek turned the television off and swiveled the chair around to face the door. Deryn's fingers carefully found the light switch. "Quiet! Or else my grandda will hear!" she whispered viciously.

"Do you mean me?" Alek asked, a sly grin. Deryn's face lost all color and the boy who was behind her slowly began retreating back into the elevator hall.

"Oh, sheiße!" _Here we go again, _Alek thought.

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><p><strong>AN: Hope you all like it! I actually came home really late on Friday, and I got the same reception from my brother. It was totally Godfather/Horror movie creepy-ish :/ I could just imagine this happening to one of Deryn's kids, but then I thought that grandkid would be funnier!**

**REMEMBER TO REVIEW!**


	5. My Favorite Things

**A/N: Okay! This one was a request by HopelessRomantic! Alek + Deryn + Small Kid= a lot of cuteness :) Julia is not in any way related to Julia456, she was named after a friend of mine who visited yesterday. But I am a huge fan of Julia456… The song is My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music (which is currently stuck in my head). Thanks to Frogster and DanniWasHere for the comments, I'm glad you liked it! Keep up the reviews! -Marnie :)**

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><p>Alek woke up to the now normal sound of wailing. He took a good long look at the clock on his bedside and saw that it was 2:56 in the morning. He groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. He heard a giggle coming from beside him.<p>

"What?" he grunted from beneath the pillow, sounding muffled.

"Stay in bed, your princeliness. I'll go take care of Art." She said, she sounding muffled, but Alek knew that it was from the pillow over his head. He grunted again in agreement, closing his eyes once again. Taking the pillow from above his head, he turned around to face the doorway, only to turn again to the other side a few seconds later. He knew that he wasn't going to get back to sleep at this point in the night, at least not until Deryn came back. He pulled himself up from the bed and set his feet down on the cold, wood floor, thinking that he should have worn some socks the night before. He carefully treaded down the hall to his son's room, but stopped just before the slightly opened door.

"_Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens._

_Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens,_

_Brown paper packages tied up with strings, _

_These are a few of my favorite things." _He heard Deryn sing from the doorway. It was a very cute song he had to admit. Alek walked carefully into the room and saw Deryn with little Art in her arms, bouncing up and down as she hummed. Art seemed to have calmed down.

"_Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple streudels,_

_Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles_

_Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings_

_These are a few of my favorite things." _Alek joined in, copying the tune that Deryn was singing. He walked into the small nursery and walked to stay beside Deryn. Art had already fallen back to sleep, but they continued with the song anyway.

"_When the dog bites, when the bee stings, _

_When I'm feeling sad,_

_I simply remember my favorite things,_

_And then I don't feel so bad." _They sing as Deryn carefully walks over to the crib and sets tiny little Art down. He looked so peaceful that Deryn and Alek had to tiptoe carefully out of the room, so to not make too much noise.

Alek sighed silently as they shut the door behind them. "And they say we're not fit parents."

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><p><strong>AN: More suggestions are welcome!**


	6. I'll Stand By You

**A/N: So this one is slightly more depressing, but I felt that I still had to write a really depressing drabble. I know, you can start hating me in a minute, because I have a (drum roll please)… CHALLENGE! The challenge is posted in the Author's note at the bottom, read the drabble first!**

Tears fell onto the picture in Deryn's hands, smudging the brown and grey ink. It showed a boy and a girl, standing in front of Buckingham Palace. The boy was tall and handsome, his dark hair ruffled by the cool English breeze, and his strong arms were holding the blonde girl in front of him to his chest. The girl was very tall as well; only a few centimeters shorter than the boy, her hair was tied up in a simple ribbon, and she wore a scandalously short skirt. Their smiles said it all. No one could doubt the love that the two teenagers felt for each other. It was a great picture.

_Why did this happen? _Thought Alek as he looked into Deryn's red-rimmed eyes. He held her in his arms as she cried. No matter what happened to her, he would always love her. He just hoped that she knew that.

"Why couldn't they just leave us alone?" she asked him. "Why couldn't everything be as simple as it used to be?" He took her hand away from the picture and entwined his fingers in hers.

"Nothing has ever been simple, darling." He said gently. "Especially not for us." She chuckled gently.

"I suppose so." She agreed, but the fractional smile quickly faded and she dug her face into his chest. He held on tighter. "Why did this have to happen?"

Alek couldn't respond to that. So he simply chocked out, "I don't know," because he didn't. Why had this happened? Why had any of the bad things in their lives happened?

They both had their battle scars, but they had always been there for each other to help with the pain. Alek and Deryn had each other, and he was surer of that than he was sure of anything else in his life.

He had been there for her. Every time she had hurt herself in an accident with her crazy flying machines and beasties. Every time someone had said something behind her back. Through every wound, physical or not, he had been there for her, just as she had always been there for him too.

Deryn sat with him in every war council, and every meeting of political leaders. She had much better things to do, of course, but supporting his every decision was more important than any of her hobbies.

Sure, they stood by each other, but that didn't mean that the world was any more kind or lenient simply because they were in love. There were still whispers, and harsh voices that berated them. There were still people who wanted to harm them. It seemed like the world was sending them a message, most of the time. It had made Alek question whether he had made the right choice in staying with Deryn. But then he would hear her voice, swearing and laughing in his memories, and he would know that he had made the right choice, all of those years ago.

**A/N: Here's the challenge: Anyone who guesses what happened to Deryn correctly, get's a sneak peak at the prequel drabble that was supposed to lead up to this one! I feel a bit evil about this (cue evil laughter)! Remember to read and review!**


	7. Misogynist!

**A/N: Y'all fail at guessing, so I'm not going to post the prequel to chapter six... at least not yet... BUT IN THE MEANTIME, enjoy this post-Goliath drabble.**

"I—can't—breathe—" Alek said through gasps, his lungs felt as if they were going to burst at any moment. His chest was trying, and failing, to heave enough air into his lungs to successfully oxygenate the rest of his body. "This—is—torture—"

"Oh, do be quiet, Alek, and stop your whining. We women go through this nearly every day to satisfy the male perspective of a perfect feminine figure." Dr. Barlow said perspicaciously as she tightened the laces of Alek's corset.

"Misogynist!" yelped the Loris on her shoulder in agreement.

"I—am—not—a—misogynist!" Alek huffed out in outrage. "I'm—perfectly—alright—when—Deryn—"

"Ah, yes. Miss Sharp. You are perfectly all right when Miss Sharp dresses up as a man because you think that everyone should try to be as strong and sturdy as a man. Anyone who wears a dress is considered to be weak. In fact, you men, think that all women should be obsessed with you lot. You all think that we women should think about you twenty-four hours a day, seven days per week." Dr. Barlow pressed on. "I assure you Mr. Chotek, that tonight you will have to shed your pride for your gender and embrace your feminine side. We are all depending on you and Miss Sharp." Dr. Barlow gave the laces one final tug before tying them in a neat bow. She them proceeded to slip the dark green velvet dress over Alek's head, helping him put his hands through the sleeves.

The door then opened slowly, making only a quiet creaking noise, before the floorboards beneath them groaned with the added weight to the room. Alek could not see who was at the door, as he was gripping the wall to steady himself, but he could hear the loud laughing that came from behind him.

"I must say," Deryn said between gasps of air, more likely from the laughing than from the corset. "That dress definitively matches your eyes."

Alek turned around slowly, trying to keep his balance on the high heels. "That is not—" He stopped abruptly when he saw her. The dress that she was wearing _definitively _matched her eyes and brought out the sky in them. "You look amazing." He felt that even that was not enough to describe how wonderful she looked.

"Don't get used to it." Deryn growled. "As soon as this mission is over, I am getting as far away from petticoats as I possibly can."

"Children!" Dr. Barlow reprimanded. "Focus! You must still be briefed!" The boffin swore politely under her breath. Something about how difficult it was to work with teenagers. Dr. Barlow gave Alek and Deryn the picture of a man and a woman. Both Alek and Deryn gaped at the man's picture. "Your mission is to find out whether Count Volger is romantically involved with this woman. It is a matter of international safety."

**A/N: Slight Varlow. Remember to review! I do so love reading them .O**


	8. On the Sidewalk, Bleeding

**A/N: I noticed how everyone seems to have a drabble about either Deryn or Alek or Dr. Barlow dying, so I thought that I should snap to it and write a particularly depressing (and not to mention deadly) drabble. I will warn you, though, I am a naturally positive person, so this has been incredibly hard for me to do. Comments for improvement will be much appreciated. I got the inspiration from the short story **_**On the Sidewalk, bleeding. **_**If you haven't read it, do. It is a really sad story, but I can't help but laugh at the melodramatic title. The song A Little Fall of Rain**__**from Les Miserables also inspired me. I cry every time I hear that song.**

**Disclaimer: Unless Scott Westerfeld is a teenage girl living in Canada, which I'm very sure he isn't, I am not he.**

It all seemed to have happened so quickly. One moment they were walking out of the restaurant together, and the next, she lay on the sidewalk, bleeding in his arms. She looked at peace, looking blankly at the sky, as the blood from her chest seeped out like the ink from a pen.

He grasped her in his arms, trying to find some way to stop the bleeding, but there was just too much of it coming out too fast. He took her hand in his, his now rough fingers entwined in her slender ones.

"Don't fret love," she said softly, her free hand moving to his face. He gripped it gently and met her eyes. "I don't feel any pain."

"I must get help for you. I must—I have to—I don't know—" He tried to form words but none came to his mind. It was like a blank sheet of paper waiting to be filled, but there was no pen to write things down on the paper with.

"Shh." She said softly, putting her hand to his lips. "You're here. That's all I really need, and all I really want. You're going to keep me safe, aren't you?" Her eyes pleaded for him to say yes, her breathing was harsher now, deeper and slower breaths were taken. She held her gaze.

"Forever." He promised her quietly. Her face broke into a slight, labored smile; a smile of relief.

He held on to her tightly until the daylight broke the sky in two. Until her pulse was barely present; until all of the tension was gone from her strong muscles. He held on until someone had found him holding her on the sidewalk, and called an ambulance to retrieve the dead woman from her lover's arms, and even when they came for her, he still held on.

He did eventually let go of her body, because he could not keep her in his arms forever. But he promised her that he would never let her go. Alek stayed true to his promise, and never forgot Deryn.

**A/N: So? What did you guys think? Was that depressing enough? Did I bring out any tears? **

**Just a reminder, anyone who has any requests are more than welcome to voice them out. Remember to read and review!**


	9. A Christmas Drabble

**A/N: I am definitively taking requests. In fact, please send me some. My ideas are definitively **_**not **_**bottomless. I have some comments to respond to, so I will do that right now (if you haven't commented on the last two chapters 1) shame on you and 2) this doesn't really apply to you so you can skip to the actual chapter):**

**Anonymous reviewer: I'm sorry if you were disappointed by my killing off Deryn, BUT like I said in the author's note, I was inspired by the song from Les Miz **_**A Little Fall of Rain, **_**if you haven't heard it, it's the one where the street-wise (and awesome) tomboy girl, dies in her love's arms. I do plan on killing off Alek in some way, shape, or form, I just thought that it'd be easier to start with Deryn.**

**Jett-Wolfe98: Do you mean is this whole, entire story a drabble series? If so, then yes, it is. If you mean, is chapter 8 going to evolve into a drabble story arc, then no, probably not. I shall decide that later.**

**SenoritaBovril: Thank you, I deeply appreciate your comment. I was hoping you readers would find the idea as funny as I did.**

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><p>Artemis Sharp watched his little family through the frosted window. He stood patiently outside for his wife's signal, only then could he come into the house. The Saint Nicholas suit that he was wearing made him want to itch in very uncomfortable places, but it wouldn't be Christmas if he didn't play the part.<p>

Inside, he saw Maggie sitting on the couch with Deryn curled up beside her, reading a book. His little girl was staring at the pictures, making the connection between the words and the actions illustrated. She was a smart one, Deryn was. A smidge too smart for her tender age of four, and too tall too. His little bird was nearly Jaspert's height already!

Artemis would never admit it to anyone, but Deryn was his favorite child. Not to say that he didn't love Jaspert. Jaspert was his son, the first-born and the one that was going to carry the family name, after all. But Deryn was everything he had hoped in a child; smart, curious, fearless of everything, and best of all, she loved the skies as much as he did.

Maggie then yawned theatrically, stretching her arms high above her head, and wiggled her finger very subtly. That was his cue. He went to the back door and opened it slowly, careful not to make it creak. And the silently took off his boots and slipped on his house slippers. Maggie would kill him if she had to sew another pair of his socks.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" he exclaimed merrily, keeping his voice low, like the Saint Nicholas' they often saw on the streets. "Merry Christmas!" He walked through the kitchen doorway and into the living room, lugging the large sack of boxes that was part of his attire.

Deryn leapt off the sofa to her feet. "Saint Nick! Saint Nick!" She yelped with joy, clapping her little hands together.

"Well, what do we have here? Little Deryn and Jaspert!" Artemis said, maintaining his persona as he picked up the four year old and sat down on the sofa with her. He carefully perched her on his knee, using his hands to keep her balance. She didn't need it though; she was perfectly comfortable on his knee. Jaspert crept up closer to Artemis, slightly cautious at his appearance in the house, but he remained on the floor. "So, children. What can old Saint Nicholas get for you?"

Jaspert's eyes lit up at Artemis' question. "I want some new marbles!" he exclaimed. Artemis reached for the sack at his feet with one hand, keeping the other one on Deryn. He removed a single jar of marbles with a tied red ribbon. Jaspert squealed with joy as he grasped the jar with both eager hands. "Thank you, Saint Nick!" He yelled and quickly got up to run to his room, most likely to start playing with the marbles.

Artemis turned his gaze to his little girl, whose large blue eyes were looking keenly at him, as if she saw something in him that he himself did not see. He wondered for a moment if she could see through the costume and the beard, but decided that she was much too young to notice such a thing. "And what would you like, dear?" he asked her.

Deryn squinted her eyes for a moment, but then said: "I want the stars." She said simply. Artemis knew exactly what she meant, but he did not have the means to give it to her.

"I will get them for you, little bird." He promised her, and she nodded.

Maggie cleared her throat and the both of them looked at her. "I think it's high time for you to go to bed young lady." She said to Deryn, and then yelled out, "you too, Jaspert! Off to bed!"

"What about Ma? What does she get?" Deryn asked him, tugging on his coat.

"Why, I nearly forgot!" He said, putting on the broad grin back onto his face. "Ma Sharp! There is something here for you, too!" He reached again into the sack and took out a rectangular box. Maggie gave him a disapproving look. They had an agreement to only get gifts for the kids, but Artemis always ignored it. Every year, he surprised her with something. It was worth it, for the look on his wife's face when she opened the box. He had gotten her a necklace. It was a simple black and white cameo pendant with a chain, and Maggie had been eyeing it for weeks.

Artemis could see that she was biting back tears, but he put Deryn down on the ground, getting up from the sofa, and embraced his wife.

"You shouldn't have." She whispered in his ear.

"You deserved it, darling." He whispered back, breaking free of his embrace. He turned around retrieved the sack from the floor. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" He said merrily, leaving his job as husband and bringing back his act. "I'm sorry, ladies, but now I have to go, go, go!"

Deryn hugged his legs and looked up at him. "Bye Saint Nick." She said into his trousers, before letting him go back out.

He went back outside and quickly shed his costume. Artemis came back in to greet his children, who recounted Saint Nick's visit and showed him their presents, and like a good father, he acted as if he were truly sad to have missed the saint. He kissed his children goodnight, and went to bed with his wife.

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><p>Two days later, Deryn, Maggie, and Jaspert came home from a visit to their grandmother's house. It was late, and the day had already fallen. Artemis, who did not get along well with his mother-in-law, had stayed home that day.<p>

Jaspert was so tired, that he ran straight to his room without a second glance at either of his parents. Maggie and Deryn went into their respective bedrooms to change into their nightgowns.

As soon as Deryn lit the lamp in her room, she gasped. Her room had been transformed entirely. The walls of her once boring, pink room were no longer bare and uniform, but had the entire night sky painted on them. Constellations that her father had told her about were depicted perfectly, and, most surprisingly, her name was written among them. She ran to them, running her small fingers along the perfect details of the painted stars. Deryn jumped for joy as she saw that the sky that she loved so much was hers. After putting on her nightgown, the little girl lay in her bed and counted the dots on her ceiling, muttering to herself the names of the constellations and the stories behind them. She would have stayed counting if her mother had not forced her to get under her covers and right to sleeping.

Artemis came in to say goodnight to his little girl, like he did every night. She hugged his neck tightly and said to him, "Thank you for the stars, Da." He was startled for a moment, but only a moment. He let her go, and looked back into her knowing young eyes.

"Anything for you, my little bird." He turned around and went to the lamp, extinguishing it completely. The stars painted in the entire room, glowed from their fluorescence. His little girl would sleep among the stars. "Good night, Deryn." He whispered before closing the door.

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><p><strong>AN: So? What did you guys think? Now, I know that this dads-dressing-up-as-Santa thing might be a little bit strange, but my mother and her parents were all Brazilian and this was what we did when I was a kid. My dad, to please my mother, would dress up as Santa and come in to give us kids presents. Later on, my cousins took turns, every Christmas, dressing up as Santa. If you hadn't noticed my comment about the slippers, that was also a play on my childhood. I found out my dad was Santa when I was three because I saw his slippers, and asked him why he had them if he was Santa. It was nice to write about some of my childhood memories. So thank you for reading this so far. A lot of my writing comes from personal experience, and I'm really glad that you all enjoy it :) Merry Christmas everyone! - Marnie**


	10. You're not going to tell Da, right?

**A/N: Chapter 10! Woohoo! 19 Reviews! I wasn't planning on writing again until after Christmas, but I just couldn't help myself, and since I quite liked little Deryn, I decided to bring her back and write a sequel to it! Thanks to Amirin for suggesting it. Remember to Review! **

Alek looked down at Deryn, trying to achieve a level of condescension. She sat across from him at the dinner table, her hands on her lap, invisible under the wood surface, and her head was tilted down in shame.

"What were you thinking?" Alek asked his granddaughter quietly. He was never the sort of person to shout or yell, that had been his wife's job.

"I dunno." She mumbled, shrugging slightly.

"Did you honestly think that you would be able to sneak in a boy into this apartment without my noticing?" He asked. It wasn't as if he could really blame Deryn or the unnamed boy. They were teenagers, after all, and teenagers loved to break rules and test breaking points.

"No." She said, bringing her bright blue eyes up to meet Alek's. His heart suddenly clenched. Deryn looked so much like her grandmother sometimes. "Maybe. I guess so? I don't know _what_ I was thinking." She brought her arms up onto the table and let her head down upon them.

Alek sighed and laid his hand on her arm. "I know you weren't thinking. I never thought when I was your age." Deryn looked up at him, letting her arms down on the table. Alek grasped her slender hand in his. "I'm not going to give you rules because I trust that you're going to make the right decision. But I need you to trust me too."

"I do trust you, grandda." She assured him, and he could see her eyes glazing over with premature tears.

"Then I need you to tell me where you are, and whether you're going to bring friends home. I don't mind that you have boyfriends, Deryn. But I need you to be careful and talk to me."

"I want to be careful, but I don't think when I'm around him. I'm just all giggly and girly, just all 'round not myself."

Alek chuckled at his granddaughter's perfect explanation. "You might look exactly like your grandmother, but you are still so much like me." He told her, her eyebrows cocked up in confusion. It seemed that, to teenagers, the idea that adults could have love lives and romance was simply inconceivable.

"How so?" she asked, voice lilting at the end.

"I could never talk to your grandmother without getting my tongue tied in knots." He said. "Especially about things like love and feelings. I was useless really."

Deryn attempted to stifle a laugh, but it ended coming out even louder than it normally would have, causing air, and a few stray sprays of spit, to catapult out of her mouth. "You?" She guffawed, her face scrunching up hysterically. "YOU?"

"I know it may seem strange—"

"Strange?" she asked, getting a hold of herself. "You're the one who knows what to say, when to say it, and how to say it! I can't even imagine _you _getting tongue tied."

He smiled. "I told you it would seem strange, but it's true." He looked down at his hands, focusing on his wedding ring. Alek had never been able to take it off; the skin of his finger had just grown around it, making it a part of him. "Your grandmother had to wrestle a marriage proposal out of me. I was so nervous that I just couldn't find the words to complete the sentence." He remembered her on the London Bridge, wind blowing through her hair, which she had grown out for a mission. He remembered her kneeling down to face him, holding his hands and whispering: _Just breathe, dummkopf. Breathe, think of what you want to say, and _then _talk. _"She would always tell me to breathe, think, and then start talking."

"Gran said that to me too." Deryn looked into his eyes. "Every time I couldn't say something, that's what she would tell me to do just that."

"I miss her terribly, liebe." He told her. It wasn't often that he said this, and he did not tell many people.

"I miss her do, grandda." She said, reaching to grab his hand with hers. All of the sudden, her eyes furrowed, and then raised in alarm. "You're not going to tell Da, right?"

**A/N: REMEMBER TO REVIEW!**


	11. In London

**A/N: So, this is my second entry to the Christmas Contest on Deviantart. It's also a prequel to the previous chapter. Thanks to Jett-Wolfe98 and Second Daughter of Eve for the reviews, I'm glad you share my sense of humor. Awesomegoat and Frogster, I hadn't thought of that! (facepalm) I will begin writing a Deryn and little Deryn fic immediately! **

**Disclaimer: I AM NOT ! NOR WILL I EVER BE!**

**Remember to read and review!**

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><p>In London, it doesn't normally snow during the winter. Rain is always a great possibility, in fact, it almost always a certainty that it would rain. On Christmas day 1921, two years after the end of the Great War, Deryn stood atop the Tower Bridge. She was not on the observation deck, which was directly above her, but rather on the pedestrian walkway. Cars and carriages rushed behind her as she leaned on the rail, the only solid separation between her body and the air above the murky water of the Thames.<p>

Deryn looked at her wristwatch. The ticking, turning cogs showed that it was five-ten in the evening. She supposed the habit of wearing the watch never did wear off, but then again, neither did the habit of wearing trousers and keeping her hair short. He was supposed to be there ten minutes ago. The winter sky was already becoming dark. Behind her, the sun was being engulfed in a bright red sea, which was fading into the colors of the now inky sky. The moon was shining above her in a waning crescent, eerily looking like the grin of the Cheshire cat.

Alek walked up from behind her and tapped her shoulder. She was not surprised. She did not jump or twitch from his sudden touch. Deryn simply remained leaning on the rail. "You're late." She said in a clipped voice.

"I'm sorry, liebe." Alek replied solemnly. He was wearing only a simple button-down shirt, crossed over by the straps of his suspenders. He was not fazed by the cold bitter wind blown across the Thames. Being Austrian, he was accustomed to much colder and harsher winters, and London seemed like nothing more than the spring of his home country.

"Don't 'liebe' me!" Deryn snapped, turning around to face him. His green eyes looked spent and tired, their brilliance more subtle than normal. "I've been waiting here, looking like a fool I might add, for twenty minutes."

Alek's eyebrows furrowed as he took out his pocket-watch, opening it to look at the time. Above the face of the watch, on the underside of the lid, there was a picture of Deryn, hair much shorter and her face grinning. "I am only ten minutes late." He observed.

"I was worried you would be here early!" She exclaimed. "I know how you are when you're nervous!"

"How did you know that I was nervous?" He asked, a smile creeping up onto his face.

"Because I know you." She said, her face did not bulge from its angry, impassive expression. "And your voice betrays you." She added.

"I love you." He said, inching closer to her. His arms crept around her waist and he pulled himself towards her. Deryn's face lifted up and accepted his kiss.

Alek broke off the quick kiss, but their foreheads were still touching. "I know you do, dummkopf." She smiled.

Alek knelt down to the ground and ignored the cool, damp feeling that crept up his knee the moment that it touched the ground. "Deryn, I love you. My life would be a lost, winding road without you. I would've had no direction whatsoever. I—I—" His throat seemed to close up sporadically, unable to keep making out the words that he had so carefully rehearsed. He cleared his throat anxiously. "What I'm trying to say is that— that—I feel like we've done—I mean we have our whole lives ahead of us—and—"Alek's speech stopped. He looked down at the ground, not being able to bear looking her in the eye. "Schieße! Warum kann ich dieses nicht sagen? Dumm! Dumm! Dumm!" He swore under his breath, and slapped himself in forehead repeatedly.

Deryn chuckled lightly and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. She knelt down to the ground in front of him. The loose rocks on the pavement dug into her exposed knees, but she paid them no notice, and grasped Alek's hands in hers, marveling at their warmth, despite his lack of suitable clothing. "Alek, dear. Breathe. Deep, calming breath." She ordered him, and he did as he was told, inhaling and exhaling deeply. His face was visibly more relaxed. "Aye, that's it. Now, _think _of what you want to say." He closed his eyes in response to her command. "And, when you're ready, say the words that are going through your head."

He cleared his throat once again. "Deryn Sharp. Liebe." His hand traveled to his pocket and he slowly withdrew a small leather box, opening it to reveal a ring. Deryn gasped at its beauty. It was simple, yet so intricate. The ring was a single silver band, inlayed with three polished, circular stones, two sapphires and one diamond set in between them. The color of the sapphires shined out like eyes in the middle of the night, matching the hue of her own. "Deryn, will you marry me?" Alek asked.

She smiled at him broadly and laid her hand out for him. He carefully took the ring out of its box and slid it onto her long, slender finger. It slid past easily, ignoring the old calluses and rough patches of her overworked hand.

Alek got up from the ground, and then, as gentlemanly conduct dictated, pulled Deryn up to her own feet. She did not waste a second once she was up, and smashed her lips up onto his.

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><p>To the odd passersby, there were no words to describe the odd sight of the young couple passionately kissing on the pedestrian walkway of Tower Bridge. No words to describe their urgency to be together. But then again, no words were truly needed.<p> 


	12. I Should be Late More Often

**A/N: So, I am working on the little Deryn/Deryn story, but I had written this a few days ago for the Contest, and I decided to not submit it. Christian Gurd is an _actual _living person, and although I only stole his name, I did _not_ steal his personality! And Sophie is OC as well :) I hope you all like it :)**

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><p>Christian ran. He did not walk, he <em>ran.<em> He did not, in fact, have time to walk to his freshman psychology class across campus because his bloody roommate had unceremoniously unplugged his alarm clock. So no, he did not calmly walk through the campus, admiring the beautiful trees or even whistling to young ladies, to his first class on his first day of university. No sir, he _ran _like a maniac instead.

Once getting to the large building, he busted through the door, attempting to find room 305. It took him a steady jog down the hall looking at numbers to make him realize that he was on the wrong floor and that he needed to go up three more flights of stairs.

In reality, it would have been wise for Christian to simply have blown off his first class, and give the professor the impression that he was just another careless young man who was simply there due to his parent's urging. But Christian was not that sort of person. He was smart and respectable, and also the _only _student on a full scholarship _at _the university, and did not have the luxury of making a bad impression.

Shoes slapping on the floor, sweat slowly making its way down his forehead, Christian kept running until he reached the large amphitheatre where his first lecture was being held. He opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to interrupt the lecture. He needn't have worried; really, any creak, scrape, or scratch that the door might've made was drowned out by the professor's low and death-like monotone, amplified by the carefully engineered acoustics of the amphitheatre.

There were around fifteen rows of plush velvet chairs surrounding the stage. All of the seats that were free were either in the front row, or in the middle of the audience. And, although the room was very dark, if Christian were to go take any of those, he would have surely been noticed by the professor and called out on his lateness. He spotted a single chair in the last row on the very edge of the aisle. Christian made his way up the small set of steps to the very last row.

The girl who was sitting in the chair beside the free one was so concentrated on the professor's dull words that she did not even notice Christian asking her if the seat next to her was taken.

"Excuse me, miss? Is that seat taken?" He asked once again, this time a wee bit louder. The girl flew in her seat, nearly knocking the elbow of the boy sitting to her other side.

"Gott verdammen Sie!" she swore in a hushed voice, and then looked up to meet Christian's eyes. Her bright green eyes were wide in both anger and surprise. "No, the seat is not taken." She snapped, her voice clipped and vicious, letting Christian hear a hint of a Scottish lilt underneath her carefully groomed English. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that! It's barking frightening!"

Christian took the seat, and turned over to her, extending his hand for her to shake. "Christian Gurd. Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss."

She stared down at his hand for a moment, but then took it, delicately shaking his with her small, slender hand. "Sophie Chotek," she replied.

"Is that German, Miss Chotek?" He asked, curiosity taking over him. "Your name, I mean."

"It's Austrian, actually." She said, now veering her attention back to the professor, but her head tilted slightly toward Christian, as if inviting him to continue speaking to her over the professor's ramblings.

"So what's an Austrian doing in London? Last I heard, you were all hiding in shame over there."

Sophie chuckled lightly. "Me Ma's Scottish and me Da's Austrian. He got picked up in Switzerland during the Great War and started working for the Zoological Society of London as an ambassador. You could say that he was a big factor in the ceasefire of the War."

"Wait right there a minute. Are you Deryn Sharp's daughter?" Christian asked, his eyes trained on the professor, but his mind wrapping around the turning cogs in his brain.

"Aye." She said, her head nodding slightly.

"Doesn't that mean that you're the air to the Austrian throne as well? Since your mum married that Emperor bloke?"

"Aye. I'm studying Politics, so I can go back to Austria and fix up the government. It truly is a mess there, at the moment." She paused for a moment. "What do you think I'm doing here? Being pretty?" She challenged.

"You don't need to come here to be pretty. You can be pretty all on your own." Sophie looked at Christian, her face flushing with heat.

Before she could come up with anything to say back, the professor suddenly looked up at the audience. "Well, students, that is all for today. I will see you again in two days for our next lecture." The lights of the theatre came up, and Christian swore under his breath. Not only had he missed more than half of his first lecture, but also he had spent the part of the lecture he was present for talking to Deryn Sharp's daughter!

"You have more creative swears than my mother," Sophie remarked as she reached under her seat for her satchel, "and _that's _saying something." She then did the most bizarre thing. She reached up to the shoulder that was not facing Christian and removed a small frog from it. Looking at it straight on, she said, "end recording," and put it into the bag.

"What's with the frog?" He asked, curious as to why she kept an amphibian literally _on_ her person.

"Oh! You mean Kermit? He records what people are saying when I tell him to." She said.

"So you have that entire lecture saved. On a _frog._ Named _Kermit._" Christian supposed that he seemed a bit slow, but in truth; he had never actually encountered a fabrication of that complexity.

"Yes." Sophie said, giving him a look that made him feel that the thoughts he had previously had been correct.

"Right..."

"So..." She began, looking at him expectantly. "Are you going to move out of the way willingly, so both I and the rest of this row can leave our seats, or will I have to tackle you to the floor to get you out of the way?"

Christian looked past Sophie and saw that their entire row had already stood up and were patiently giving the both of them glares. He shot up out of the seat and moved to go down the steps, towards the exit. Sophie followed suit, staying just a tiny bit behind him. He slowed his pace down so to walk next to her.

Once he was walking in time with her, he began. "So, I was just wondering, could I, by any chance, get my hands on that recording frog of yours? You know, to listen to the lecture."

"I wouldn't trust you with him. And besides, he doesn't respond to anyone _but _me." She said. _This is going to be a lot harder than I thought,_ thought Christian. They turned stepped out of the door of the theatre and walked down the hall together.

"Maybe I can take you out to lunch or a walk in the park, and you could show me how your frog works?" He tried again as they turned to walk down the stairs.

Sophie stopped in the middle of the staircase, causing the constant flow of people to walk around her. "Are you going to pay?" She asked.

Christian stopped and turned to face her. "Is that a yes?"

"Don't answer a question with a question." She said, narrowing her eyes.

"Don't answer questions with empty answers." He shot back. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly, as if she were trying to stifle a smile.

"Answer my question and I will answer yours."

"A gentleman always pays on the first date." He stated.

"It's a date then?" She asked, her eyebrow quirking up.

"I suppose it is. Stop pacing around the question and answer it already. Yes or no?" He pressed.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Yes, I will go out for coffee with you." She put her hand into her satchel and began to search for something. When she had finally found a pen, she stepped down so she was one step closer to him. Grabbing his hand, she began to scribble a neat combination of numbers onto it. When she had finished, she inspected her work, and, satisfied, said, "there. Call me with the details." Sophie put her pen back into her satchel and walked away from him, without even a backwards glance.

Christian stood dumbfounded on the stairs, staring down at his hand, where eleven neat numbers had been inked onto his skin. "I should be late more often."

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><p><strong>AN: Remember to review!**


	13. Stay with Me

**A/N: So it's been a while since I updated this particular series, so I decided to finally write another one-shot. Earlier I promised that I was eventually going to kill of other characters (we all know how therapeutic killing off imaginary people is ;D). I said that I wasn't **_**only **_**going to kill off Deryn. The title is taken from the song **_**Stay **_**by Shakespeare's Sister, and it is the inspiration for this particular one-shot. Remember to review :)**

"You _dummkopf._" Deryn muttered at Alek's limp form on the mortician's table. She had taken an airship and a train into Vienna that same day, but the grief hadn't hit her until she had seen Alek's lifeless face. It had seemed unreal. Not tangible unless she saw some sort of proof to confirm what she didn't want to believe.

But it was true, and Alek's body lay on the uncomforting metal table, his head elevated slightly by a block. His face was already pale and his lips were blue from the chill of the cold room.

She struggled to remember the last time that she had kisses those lips, and what it had felt like. She couldn't remember if it had been a passionate, bloodthirsty or if it had been slow, and spontaneous. She pulled the sleeves of her jacket closer to her hands, trying to get them to cover her bare wrists. The cold had already started nipping at Deryn's cheeks and her exposed fingertips. There was no awful smell of death and decay in the room, just the faint scent of anti-bacterial cleansers.

Deryn didn't cry. Not there, not alone in a room with what was formally Alek. She didn't even know who the man on the table was. He was much too white to be Alek. His lips were blue, and they were not upturned in his casual smile. No arrogant smirk, or sneer on his face. But it wasn't, and couldn't be, anyone other than Alek. It was as if she was simply watching him sleep, as she had so many times before. The man on the table seemed at peace.

The man on the table had gone to Vienna for a conference to reinstate him as Emperor of Austria. She had warned him against it. When warnings did not work, she begged him. Begged him to think of her and their children, and to not make the same mistake that his own parents had made before him. But he didn't listen, not even after she'd threatened to withhold sex and to divorce him if he went. He said it was his duty to his country and his people. It was his duty to his parents. It had never been his duty to get himself killed. He had a duty to stay alive for her and for their children.

"Why didn't you just learn?" She said through gritted teeth. "You have left me all alone. I have no one anymore." Tears fell from her eyes, as if they simply could not bear to stay in her eyes any longer. "Why couldn't you just listen to me? Why couldn't you just let providence go fuck itself and stay with me?" She ran her long slender fingers through his mahogany hair, letting the softness sweep her palm. "I love you, you dummkopf." Her voice was no more than a whisper. The exact words were her last to him.

The last time his green eyes had gleamed at her was the moment he looked back before boarding that damned train. He had turned back to look at her one last time. "I needed you to stay with me."

**A/N: REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! **


	14. Ears

**A/N: Firstly responding to comments,**

**_SuavePanda: _I'm glad you enjoyed the withholding sex. It just struck me as funny in an otherwise depressing scene. And I thought it would be ironic for him to die the same way his parents did. **

**_Second daughter of Eve _and _candygirl52793: _Thank you, I was definitively going for depressing :)**

****And now for the A/N pertaining to this particular chapter. This was _hard._ I had to think of a million scenarios where little Deryn and big Deryn would be in together. And man was it hard to differentiate between the two of them. Little Deryn is nicknamed DJ (Deryn Jr.) because saying little Deryn kept confusing me :S Remember to Review!****

"Ma, are you sure that you and Da can handle both Jaspert and Deryn for the weekend?" Artemis asked her over the phone. "We can always drop him off with Soph—"

"Now you listen here Artemis Ferdinand Sharp-Chotek, your Da and I raised all three of you perfectly adequately!" She scorned him over the phone, wagging her finger at the invisible apparition of her son. "I think we can handle our grandkids for one measly weekend!" She shoved the phone back on its jack, wanting to have the final word as always. Deryn was so mad at her son for thinking that she and Alek couldn't take care of Deryn Jr. and Jaspert! As if they hadn't done a good job with their own children!

"LIEBE!" She heard Alek yell from the kitchen. She was in the next barking room! Why couldn't he just talk like a normal person?

"WHAT?" Deryn yelled back. Alek poked his head out of the kitchen doorway, his graying hair falling over his eyes and covering his once large ears. He had grown into them quite nicely.

"Oh. You're here. Come here. DJ is drawing and she asked me how to draw ears."

Deryn raised her eyebrows. "Let me guess, you have no idea how?" She asked, following him into the kitchen.

"None at all." He smiled. "That's _your _department." He took his place at the head of the kitchen table and just crossed his arms, looking expectantly at his wife. Deryn Jr. was sitting amidst the mess of papers that littered the small circular table. On the floor were several crumpled paper balls that seemed to have suspiciously missed the rubbish bin. She took no notice of either of them, and was much too focused on her drawing.

"UGH!" DJ said as she furiously scratched out her drawing. "Stupid damn ears!" She cursed at the paper before gathering it in her hands in a tight ball and tossing it over her shoulder.

Deryn leaned down and picked up the paper off of the floor, her joints complaining from the unwelcome bending. She unfurled the paper and straightened it out as well as she could. She couldn't help but laugh at the drawing. "Oh, darling," she chuckled. "This is priceless."

DJ looked down at her pen and began to twirl it in her hands. "It's bad isn't it?" She said mournfully.

"Oh, no DJ. It looks exactly like your grandfather when we met."

Alek's face went bright red as he jumped up from his chair. "Give me that!" He yelled as she held the crumpled page from him. "Let me see that."

"You see, Deej, your grandfather has always been very _sensitive_ about—"

"Give me that!" Alek jumped up to try and grab the paper, but Deryn just passed it from one hand to the other. The whole affair looked more like a basketball game than a drawing lesson. Deryn would block Alek with her back and, in turn, he would attempt (and fail) to grab the paper from her hand. Finally, little Deryn got up from her chair and grabbed the drawing from her unsuspecting grandmother.

"Stop it, you two!" She shouted at her grandparents. "You behave worse than I do! And I'm eight!" She was a little out of breath from shouting at the elderly couple. "Gran," she said to Deryn, "can you _please _help me draw Da's ears?"

Deryn felt blood flush to her face. Had her granddaughter really just scolded her on her behavior? "Right then." She said and made her way to the kitchen table, taking her seat directly next to DJ. "Alek, darling," she turned to her equally flustered husband, "can you go play football with Jaspert outside?" He nodded awkwardly and left as quickly as he could.

"Now can you please tell me how to make these ears a smidge more real? They look like they've come out of a cartoon." DJ pointed to the drawing of her Da, her right hand hovering over the ears.

"Your strokes aren't fluid, they're heavy and blunt," she noticed. "You have to let the pencil be an extension of your arm." Deryn took DJ's hand and made one sweeping motion with it, correction the flawed left ear. "Loosen your grip and just let the strokes come from your heart and through your pencil." DJ took her rubber and erased the ears, drawing them again with more fluid strokes. The graphite lines were lighter and more defined than the previous dark etches. Deryn peered over at the drawing and smiled. "That's perfect! Looks exactly like your Da!"

"Actually Gran, it's supposed to be Grandda."

"Oh, well the first sets of ears were spot on, then."


	15. First Date

**A/N: I had fun writing this one :) _Frogster,_ do you have anything special in mind for a Sharp-Chotek family story? And Jett! You're alive! I was beginning to get worried about you ;)**

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><p>The rain just kept pouring and pouring outside the window of the cozy café. The rhythmic splattering it on the dull, grey pavement was about as synchronized to the beating of his heart as minutes were to seconds. Every two or three seconds, he would glance at the pocket-watch in his hand, anxiously wondering if she was truly going to arrive or if he was just a fool for thinking he had even the slimmest of chances. She was about an hour late. Now, normally, he would have left after waiting thirty minutes, but there was just something about that girl that made her seem more captivating than any other girl he had ever met.<p>

He glanced at his pocket-watch again. _Once it gets to two o'clock,_ he promised himself, _I am leaving._ But then again, would he? This could be his only chance with this girl. He sighed, waiving away the waiter that had come to ask him what he wanted for the eighteen hundredth time. The door of the café opened and Christian's eyes sprung to look if it was her.

It was a girl. Her hair was covered by a woolen hat, and her face by a silky oriental looking scarf. He stood up from his chair, trying to get a better view of the girl that had just walked in. Once she had spotted him, she began making her way towards his table.

"You didn't answer your phone." The girl said as she removed the scarf from around her face. "I called to ask you if we could meet later, but you didn't answer your phone." Christian got up from his seat and walked behind her, waiting to remove her coat for her. Her long, mahogany hair spilled out of her woolen hat as she shrugged off her coat. "How long have you been here?"

"About an hour." He shrugged, as though the wait had meant nothing to him.

Sophie whipped around to face him. "An _hour?_ You're very persistent, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I'm nothing except a man of my word."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. You want to play that game? Fine. Sit down." She commanded. Christian looked at her for a moment, before finally giving in to her glare. "Good." She was still standing up; her cleavage showing slightly from her daringly cut dress. "I have a few rules."

"Rules?" He asked incredulously. "You have rules?"

"If this is going to persist, then yes."

"Alright, I'll bite."

"Firstly, I am a woman, not a cripple. I can handle my issues myself. I do not need you to defend my honor, I can do it myself."

"Are you going to yell at me later for _not _defending you?"

Sophie smiled, her green eyes glinted slightly. "No. That's number two. Don't try yelling at me, it doesn't work. I do not raise my voice unless truly necessary."

"Are you going to sit down? I mean, I love the view of your breasts from down here, but I'd much rather look at your face."

Reluctantly, she sat down. "Number three. Do not, at any moment, compare me to my parents. Do not expect me to be like them."

Christian rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of doing that."

"Number four." She said pointedly. "Do not talk about war or politics to my mother."

"So there's a chance that I'll meet your mother? That's nice to know. I'm a big fan." He said, enjoying her angered expression.

"Are you always this aggravating?" She asked.

"It's just with you. You're fun to aggravate."

"Number five, and this is the most important if you have any hope for yourself. Stay away from my brother Artemis."

"Why?" Christian was slightly afraid now. Sophie was scary and patronizing, but he couldn't imagine what her older brother was going to be like.

"He's very overprotective." She said, her pale cheeks getting slightly redder. "And he may, quite possibly, be in the Marines."

"Is there anything else I ought to know about your family?" He asked, attempting to keep his calm.

"No, I believe that's all."

"Right then." He paused for a second; digesting everything he had just learned about Sophie. "Since you can handle your issues yourself, you can pay."

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><p><strong>AN: Remember to review!**


	16. Twiviathan

**A/N:**_** Second daughter of Eve **_**and **_**Swifty14: **_**thank you very much! I love the tiny quirks. My boyfriend and I were having the whole feminism discussion and he went Dutch and sprung the bill on me. I thought it would be hilarious to put that in :)**

_**WellBattle6: **_**Yes! This was written long before the canonical fic. Royals don't have surnames, and I'm pretty sure that Scott-la wrote that into **_**one**_** of the Leviathan books, so I used Chotek because that was a full-fledged surname :) And it's easier to write than Hohenberg :) But this fic has Alek's now-used last name, just for you :) **

**A little about this chapter: I couldn't help it. I had written this a few months ago while I was in the hospital, and I didn't want to post it because it's a ridiculous idea. Believe me, watching Twilight when highly drugged on morphine is the most interesting thing that I have ever experienced.**

About three things I was absolutely positive.

First, Aleksandar was a Clanker.

Second, there was a part of him- and I didn't know how dominant that part of might be- knew that I was a girl.

And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

When Deryn Sharp joins the steadfast crew of the _Leviathan _and meets the mysterious, alluring Aleksandar von Hohenberg, her life takes a thrilling and terrifying turn. With his pasty skin, emerald eyes, larger-than-normal ears, and polyglot gifts, Alek is both irresistible and incredibly clumsy. Up until now, he has managed to keep his true identity hidden, but Deryn is determined to discover his dark secret.

What Deryn doesn't realize is that the closer she gets to him, the more she is putting herself and her family at risk. And it might be too late to turn back…

Deeply seductive and irresistibly compelling, _Twiviathan _is an extraordinary adventure that will stay with you long after you have turned the final page.


	17. Stars Part 2: Always With Me

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY THAT IT HAS TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO UPDATE :( I was finals week and I was killing myself studying for history and law… **

_**Second daughter of Eve: **_** I wasn't actually bored! I dislocated my shoulder a few months ago and they pumped so much morphine into me that I hardly remember the first four days that I was there. The nurse that helped me out only had Twilight on DVD and believe me when I say that if I watched another Oprah rerun, I would kill myself. I hate Twilight too, don't worry. The only one of the books that I liked was Eclipse and that was because it moved much faster, and it had action in it :)**

_**stopthattimerave: **_**Again, not bored. Extremely doped up :)**

_**WellBattle6:**_** I couldn't have said it better myself :)**

_**Frogster: **_**This one is for you :) I hope you like the aunts; they were very fun to write, but I didn't include many of them. I'm going to write more aunties in another fic ;)**

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><p>He should not have agreed to this. He shouldn't have pressed the matter when Deryn seemed so adamant to keep it from happening. Now he understood why Deryn did <em>not<em> want him to meet her family at Christmas.

The whole house seemed to amount to one, amazingly large and awful din. There were babies crying, drunk men singing drinking songs, and women yelling at everyone around the house. Somewhere, there was someone playing the bagpipes very loudly.

"Are you the Clanker then?" One of Deryn's aunties asked him. She was probably around a hundred years old, with wrinkles so deep that it looked as if her face were melting right off her skull. She had a sort of glazed look over her watery eyes. "I remember when Deryn was a little girl." She sighed. "She was such a little spunk."

Alek tuned out the very elderly auntie as she began a long monologue about how Deryn had been such a cute child. "Hey Clanker!" He jumped at the voice. One of Deryn's cousins had just jumped up from behind him and started talking at a mile a minute. "I got you, didn't I? How's it going? Is auntie Bernadette boring you? I think that you should come with me to find me Ma. Don't you? You should meet the rest of the family. You're part of the family now—"

"I'm not—" Alek tried, but the young blonde girl just kept going on and on.

"That's right! You haven't proposed yet, have you? When are you going to do it? Propose I mean—"

"I don't—"

"I can help you! I'm amazing at planning things! I would love to pick out a ring with you—"

"Gertrude!" He heard a yell. Deryn's speedy tongued cousin stopped in her tracks, eyes wide and pupils dilated. "Can you stop just for a minute? You're crowding the poor Clanker!" A woman who looked just like a shorter version of Gertrude walked up to them from the kitchen, looking like she could do some very serious damage with the rolling pin in her hand. "Come to the kitchen with all of the other women, that's where you belong, lassie!"

Gertrude bowed her head and walked heavy-footed back to the kitchen. "I'm terribly sorry, dearie. My daughter gets a smidge carried away sometimes." Gertrude's mother apologized. "I'm Faylinn, by the way." Faylinn grabbed his hand firmly and shook it.

"Actually, I was wondering whether you could tell me where Deryn is." He said, before she could go away into the kitchen.

Faylinn's eyes softened a bit. "I don't know where my sister has stuffed Deryn, but I'm sure she'll be back soon." She assured him, patting his arm.

Alek sighed. Deryn had been gone practically the entire night, and he still hadn't had a chance to give her her Christmas present. The small rectangular box had been weighing him down with guilt constantly. He wanted to give her the present before the night was over.

"ALEK!" He heard his name being called by a rather loud and slurred voice. Alek turned around to face Jaspert as he stumbled towards him. The older boy's hair hung loosely across his face, hiding one of his bright blue eyes. Jaspert was, much to Alek's annoyance, quite a bit taller than he, so when the elder boy flung his arm around Alek's shoulders, the fit was rather ideal, even if Jaspert was more like a dead weight than anything else. "So how's my favorite Clanker," the older boy paused for a second, "doing?"

"I'm looking for Deryn," he said, slightly annoyed now at the meaningless interruptions.

"Right. If you hurt my sister," Jaspert took another swig from the bottle in his hand, "I'm going to have no other choice but to kill you." He poked Alek in the chest rather harshly. His eyes were drooping slightly and the redness around them told Alek that Jaspert was going to have a rather bad headache the next morning. "Have I ever told you that you're my favorite Clanker?"

"I'm the _only _Clanker you know, Jaspert," e pointed out.

"Right, but I don't want to _kill _you just because you're a Clanker. I rather like you. Even if you're stepping out with my sister."

"Where is your sister, Jaspert?"

Jaspert shrugged his shoulders and took another swallow from the bottle. "Beats me. Have you checked," he paused again, drooping slightly more heavily onto Alek, "outside?"

"No," he said, trying to shrug off his hopefully-future-brother-in-law. "I'm going to go do that now. Go talk to Gertrude." He pushed Jaspert off into the small crowd of his friends and turned to go outside.

Deryn was sitting on the porch steps outside, staring up at the infinite night sky. Alek sat himself down next to her, but she didn't seem to notice that he was even there. Her skirts were pulled up above her knees, showing her stocking covered legs. "Do you have stars like that in Vienna, Alek?" She asked him.

He looked up at the clear night sky. It was as if every soul that had ever lived on the earth had transformed itself into a bright white, shining beacon for all of the other humans that were still alive. Alek back to Deryn, whose face was glowing silver under the light of the full moon, and thought: _she could be one of them._ "They're not as bright." He answered her.

"My da gave me the stars once you know," she said. "Put them all around me so that I could join them when I slept." Her eyes drifted to Alek for the first time that night. They were the same color as the bright moonlight. "I miss him terribly."

"He's in the stars," Alek told her, his heart was pounding, and the black box poked and prodded him from inside the jacket. "He's one of those blinking lights up there, looking down at us. At least that's how I think of it."

She smiled. "I like that. My da, finally where he wanted to be most. It's a nice thought."

The weight of the box in his inside jacket pocket kept growing heavier with ever moment that passed, until, finally, Alek couldn't take it any longer. "I have to give you your Christmas present!" he blurted out.

Deryn's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Oh," she said a bit awkwardly. "I guess. But shouldn't we put it under the tree and wait until tomorrow?"

"No," he shook his head. He had waited far too long for this. "I want to give it to you now, alone. Without your family around."

She looked at his suspiciously. "Do I _want _to know what it is?"

"It's nothing like that," he said, rolling his eyes. He reached inside the pocket and took out the rectangular box that was the size of his hand. It had been wrapped very badly, and there were lumps where lumps were not supposed to be, and the ribbon that went around the lumpy box was frayed along the edges from much previous use and wear. Deryn took the box and carefully pulled at the ribbon, as if one loose thread pulled the wrong way would dismantle the piece of maroon satin completely. The package fell apart completely, revealing a velvet box that matched the color of the night sky. Deryn opened it with shaking fingers, and gasped at its content. Inside the box was a single gold necklace holding a diamond pendant. It was a star. She looked back to Alek, her eyes trying to find a way to thank him, but he just held up a hand. "I wanted you to have a piece of the sky always with you, now that you're not there all of the time."

"Alek, I don't know what to say…"

"Then don't." He took the necklace from the box in her hands and unclasped it. He wrapped his arms around her strong, slender neck and closed it, letting it sit atop her blouse.

Deryn's fingers trailed to the pendant, fingering the jagged edges of the diamond inset in the gold. It was no bigger than her thumb, really, but it glowed just like a star in the glowing moonlight. "It's perfect." She smiled. "All of the men I love have given me what I've always wanted."

"I'm glad you like it," Alek said, relief flooding into him.

"I wasn't referring to the necklace, dummkopf." Deryn grabbed Alek's dinner coat and pulled him into a kiss, her fists bunching up the material in her hands. For once in her life, Deryn hoped that her Da _wasn't_ watching over her.

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><p><strong>AN: By the way, I have decided that the next chapter will be about Jaspert. Everyone always forgets him and, personally, I think he's one of the awesomest characters :) REMEMBER TO REVIEW!**


	18. Jaspert's Turn

**A/N: Jett! You're back! I've missed you :) **

_**Second Daughter of Eve: **_**I should write France into one of these fics… the British are notorious for hating them :)**

_**Winterowl321: **_**OH MY GOD! The second I read your comment I just felt so guilty! I'm so sorry! I'm sure your drunk Jaspert scene is amazing :) I do so love you **_**Alek Meets the Sharps **_**fic. It's brilliant :) I dunno… and thank you so much for your comment :) I'm always so weary of the balance between romance and forced romance. I love fluff, but I hate the "and then they started making out"'s of life (go to the Harry Potter fanfics if you don't know what I mean). And for the record, I do **_**not **_**like Twilight.**

Jaspert Sharp was not happy at all. In the entirety of three books, he had appeared in only two chapters. Sure, he had been talked about once or twice, but he had had no plotline or grand role in his sister's story at all! He was even more minor than Newkirk, and that boy was much stupider than him!

Jaspert had been the one who held Deryn when she cried for their father. He had held back his own tears in order to be strong for her, and held back his mother and aunties when they had wanted to make Deryn into a pretty, perfect, mindless lapdog for their own enjoyment. No one ever had the decency to mention that.

Neither did they mention the fact that he was heroic too. He risked his life in the Air Force just as much as Deryn did, and he might not have started a rebellion or led a revolution with nothing but spices. But he had not been given the chance to. Everyone in the world knew that Deryn Sharp was the heroine, the martyr, the savior of the desperate housewives, but no one ever remembered the brother who she had so uncaringly forgotten to mention. No woman ever knew the story of Deryn Sharp's older brother. No man knew of this brother's bravery, or the fact that he could have died in their stead. He was nothing except a shadow of his younger sister.

Jaspert downed the glass of whiskey in his hand, letting the cool liquid burn his bitterness away. His knuckles were white from gripping the smooth glass so tightly. On the bar table, the newspaper was spread to a large human-interest piece on his sister. The headline read: **Heroic Airwoman Getting Married**, but he had done things just as heroic as she had.

Around him, the buzz of drunken conversations made an awful head throbbing din around his ears. He folded the newspaper, careful to fold exactly as it had been fold before, and left the money he owed on the counter for the barman to pick up. He walked out of the crowded bar and into the damp street. It was about time he did something worth mentioning. It was time for Jaspert to write his own story.

**A/N: REMEMBER TO REVIEW :)**


	19. Anniversaries

**A/N: So sorry for the disappearing act, but I've been busy with University stuff, but good news! I got into the University I wanted, and next year, I will officially be a freshman! I'm so excited! Okay, so someone (I cannot remember who) on deviantart asked me to write a fic about Alek and his family, because we're never really told what they were like with Alek. Please remember to review! I love reading lots of reviews!**

On June 28th of every year, Alek disappeared off into a very dishonorable part of London, only to come back intensively inebriated and speaking in very slurred German.

She had never followed him, or asked any questions; she would help him to bed when he came home, and nurse his hangover the following morning. Of all people, she knew what it was like to lose a loved one. She knew how the hole in her heart would never really close, and the pain would never truly go away. It was ever-present, but bearable. So she allowed Alek the single day to himself for seven years.

It was no surprise when, that night, Alek opened the door of their apartment carefully and quietly. The light from the open door flooded the small apartment, seeping onto the blue fabric couch and the Persian rug below it. He was about to step over the threshold when the lights in the room suddenly came on.

Alek winced at the brightness that now surrounded him. He tried to shield his eyes, but the light seemed to seep in regardless. Blinking away the dark spots, Alek could see Deryn sitting on the armchair in their tiny living room.

"God's wounds, why would you turn on the light?" He asked her incredulously. "Do you want me to fall dead of the ground?"

She didn't move. Her legs remained crossed and her hands resting atop them. "I would never wish you dead, you dummkopf. But I do want you to talk to you." She pointed to the seat across from her.

"Not now," he grumbled. "I just want to sleep." He stumbled forward.

"I will not let you sleep until we have this talk." She said firmly.

"What talk?" He yelled out, his arms flailing for emphasis. "We talk about everything."

"You've never told me anything about what your parents were like."

Alek's face paled. "I've told you about them."

"You never told me anything about what they were like with you."

Alek sighed, succumbing to Deryn's gaze. He walked to the large sofa she had been previously pointing to. The tension in his body left as soon as the soft sofa swallowed him whole. "Why now?" His shoulders slumped down, but Deryn did not relent. "What do you want to know?" He asked, obviously pained.

"Anything really." Deryn shrugged. "What's your favorite memory of them?"

"I don't know…" He paused. "Well, there was this one time when my father was going to take me hunting with him. He loved to hunt. As a small child, I used to think that he loved hunting more than he loved me, but then I realized that the time I thought that he was hunting, he was actually trying to change my political status," he chuckled. "Anyway, back to the story. My mother begged him not to take me hunting. She said I was too young to see death, but my father said that I had to learn the importance of it." He shook his head. "He didn't actually take my hunting in the end. He took me on a horse ride instead. It was utter silence between us. It was just my father and I, enjoying each other's company. We didn't need to talk."

Deryn got out of her seat in the armchair, and walked to the sofa, sitting herself on his lap. She stroked his soft russet hair. "You don't have to go at it alone, you know."

"I know." He said softly. "I feel like I took them for granted when they were alive, and now I don't deserve anyone else's pity."

"It's not pity you need, it's comfort. Everyone needs comfort once in a while." She looked at him, a smile creeping onto her face. "No one needs another round of 'the pain and suffering of Prince Aleksandar.'"

He smiled back at her. "I love you." Alek took her hand in his, running his thumb across the back of her hand. "You know that right?"

"I know." She sighed. "I love you, too."


	20. Ghosts

**A/N: Oh, Lord. Chapter 20. Already. That was really fast. So last night, my boyfriend comes over to my house with a bag and tells me it's my birthday present (even though my birthday is more than a month away). Anyway, in said bag, was a copy of a Mumford & Sons CD. Needless to say, I have found my new obsession. This drabble is based on the song **_**Ghosts **_**by said mentioned band. **

**Thanks to **_**Sea-Glass88 **_**for the awesome review! I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**And **_**Winterowl312: **_**I think I already PM'd you, but since I have the memory of a goldfish, I'll answer you again. Thank you so much for you positive feedback. I'm glad you like my writing! As for Chapter 19, it was really hard for me to write, not only because it was a request, but also because it made me go to a really nasty place that I don't normally like to go to. "I love you, too" just seemed like the most logical continuation of the dialogue, so I went with it. Good luck finishing your next chapter!**

Alek looked Deryn in the eyes. Her glare was empty and bored, as if no thoughts ran through her sharp mind. Their day had been slow and uneventful, and the food in their small flat was running low on food since neither of them really had the initiative to go to the store. The grey overcast sky that had shadowed the streets made the day seem like night, and brought out the laziness in the both of them. They had stared at each other for practically the whole day.

"That's it." Alek said, slamming his hands down on the table, causing it to shake the floor beneath it. "We are going to do something."

"Have you seen the weather outside?" Deryn asked, pointing to the gigantic, endless mass of grey that had set itself over London. "It's going to rain any second."

"You've been saying that all day." He pointed out. "Just wait there. I'll grab our things." Deryn laid her head on the table, letting the fabricated wood dig into her skin, the splinters settling into the wider pores of her otherwise smooth skin. Her skull seemed to weigh down into her eyes, causing them to close against her will. It felt like night to her, and she would've readily accepted an offer of sleep.

She felt a jab on her shoulder and turned her face to Alek's. In his hands was a pair of climbing boots and her leather gloves. He tossed the gloves in front of her face and the boots at her feet without a second explanation. She sighed, knowing that there was no point to argue with him when her brain was as lucid the weather outside. Deryn picked herself off the table and slipped her feet into her boots, her fingers working slowly as she laced the boots. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"No." He said simply, and took her hand, dragging her out of the apartment. Her feet scuffled the carpeting, not lifting past what they were expected to. Alek dragged her to the window that led to the balcony of their hall, pulling her through the doorway. He let her go and took out a grappling hook from his belt, tossing it up to the roof of the building. Living on the tenth floor, they were not terribly far from the roof of their shabby building in Southwark. He pulled on the rope, testing its stability before handing it over to Deryn.

Her eyebrows furrowed in drowsy confusion. "You want me to climb first? I'm half-asleep."

"Exactly. If you fall, I'll catch you."

Deryn reluctantly took the rope, pulling herself up with her strong arms. Her boots heightened the friction between the rope and her feet, making them move faster, and farther, up the wall. Alek gave her a foot of space before beginning to climb behind her, using the wall to thrust himself up with more ease. His feet grinded against the worn brick of the wall, making small pebbles of clay detach itself from it as he took each step. He could no longer see Deryn's feet above him, and knew that she had probably already climbed to the roof.

Normally, it was Deryn's idea to come to the roof. It was her place of quietude. She often came up after a long day, or when her lust for the sky became too great, but today, he was the one who needed the solace of the rooftop.

With one final push, Alek hoisted himself up onto the ledge of the roof, finally tumbling clumsily off of the ledge and onto the rooftop. He rolled off of his stomach and into a sitting position when he saw Deryn.

Her feet were halfway off of the ledge, but perfectly balanced. Her pale skin shone against the darkness of the rainclouds that carried themselves heavily in the sky. It was like she could feel the power of the sky; as if the electricity that flowed through the thunderclouds could tether themselves to her core and vibrate through her ever cell.

From her mouth escaped a thundering roar. Her voice resonated from deep within her chest, echoing the thunder that would not come. Her laughter boomed through the molecules in the air. "Come on!" She yelled at the sky. "Don't be afraid!" And, just then, as if God, or whoever was up there controlling the weather, wanted to obey Deryn, the rain, which had been foreshadowed for so long, began to fall. The water penetrated their clothes, making it cling to their skin. Deryn turned around, looking at Alek through lanky wet hair. "This is exactly what I needed." She yelled over the thunder.

He got up, ignoring the growing density of his clothes and walked towards her. "You needed to feel the sky again."

She nodded, stepping off of her perch. "I was beginning to forget it." She said, letting her head roll back and the rain fall on her outstretched tongue.

"I believe we had our first kiss in this weather." He said, wiping away the water trails on her face with his fingers. Her skin was soft underneath the calluses that had grown on his hands over the years.

Deryn lowered her head back, the usual gleam returning to her blue eyes. "Care to recreate it, your princeliness?"

"More than anything in the world."

**A/N: Thank you to all of my reviewers and readers! It means a lot to me that you're still with me thus far! I take any and all requests, so please feel free to leave them in a review! AND REVIEW PLEASE!**


	21. Safe & Sound

**A/N: My god it's been an awfully long time. I have to say though, I have a good reason. I have been swamped with schoolwork. I've had so much to do in English, and my French teacher decided to make our lives a living hell and make us write an essay in French. I already hate writing essays in English… Anyway, I do not have time right now to respond to every comment so thank you to all of your wonderful reviews! 57 reviews is the most reviews I've ever gotten for one fic, and I love each and every one of them! **

**This is a request from someone. My awful memory fails me, but it is based off **_**Safe & Sound**_** by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars. If anyone wants an amazing (and hilarious) album to listen to, try **_**Punk Goes Pop 4. **_**I nearly fell off my bed laughing at a screamo version of **_**Last Friday Night**_** and **_**You Belong With Me. **_**It's just so funny :) Enjoy!**

She glanced at the clock for what had to have been the hundredth time and groaned because the numbers had not changed since the last time she had looked at them. They were the shining beacons in her pitch-black room and she could see the light flicker every time a single pixel turned off. She was getting tired of having to wait until midnight until her grandda was asleep so she could go out. After all, Deryn was fifteen, and definitively old enough to go out at night.

Deryn listened closely to the creaking of the floorboards outside of her door. She could hear them give way under her grandfather's weight and then ease once his feet had shuffled forward. The groaning got softer and softer, until Deryn heard them disappear entirely. Immediately, she threw off her covers, pulling up her jeans from the low place where they had slipped, and grabbed her backpack.

The night air rushed in when she opened the window, it was brisk and cool wind bit at her nose and cheeks. She put one tentative foot on the fire escape, making sure she wasn't stepping in the hole like the first few times she had snuck out. After her foot found the familiar solid, yet shaky, metal, she jumped over the ledge of the window and raced down the escape until she reached the retractable ladder that she simply slid down to the alley next to her house.

Then came the running. Running in New York City was like flying in the middle of the stars. The lights just shot out like supernovas, streaking around her eyes in lines of light. It was incredible. Just like her grandma had told her all those years ago.

Once the lights got dimmer and fewer, and the shiny buildings became close to non-existent, she slowed down to a slow jog, watching out for a space between the trees. She was looking for a cherry tree amidst the forest of pines; the eyesore of the evergreen park. Under the tree's tendrils was a hidden path, made by the steps of a hundred feet that had stepped there before her. She brushed away the branches and cautiously walked on the mud, her boots squishing under her.

He was waiting for her there, in the clearing beyond the cherry tree. Deryn couldn't help but smile the most idiotic smile she had. Her entire face lit up under the moonlight. The boy in the field had a similar smile, although he didn't glow with her same happiness. His smile reflected an impending tragedy. He swept her into his arms when she reached him, his lips crashing down on hers.

"Hey," she smiled into his lips, relishing in the lingering fire that burned on her lips.

"Hey, yourself," he replied. "Are you ready?"

"I guess," she said softly trying to keep the tears from breaching their dam.

"It's okay Der. You're not even going to miss me, you'll see," he said as he pulled her close into his arms, snuggling her into his jacket. He led her to a tall brick wall covered in vines so thick that it was hard to see any of the red clay underneath the greenery. He reached one hand into the bush and found a rusted door handle. The boy pushed the girl gently through the door, under the branches.

Deryn gasped when her eyes trailed upwards into the garden, like she had every time she had been inside before. The flowers they had planted in the fall had just begun to bloom. Tulips in red, blue, and yellow opened to greet her, and the rose bushes had just started to wrap themselves around the trellises that she and the boy had laboriously built.

"Look at how much they've grown!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with pride.

He chuckled at her lightly, thinking of how much like a child in a candy store she was. "Yeah. That fertilizer I put in really did the trick."

Deryn turned around to face him. "Promise me you'll take care of them? That you'll remember to water them when it doesn't rain or put fertilizer on them?"

He scratched his head uncomfortably under her pleading eyes. " 'Course I will, Der. I'm not just going to let them die."

"But what if you forget about them?" She bit her bottom lip. "What if you find another girl and spend all your time with her and just forget to water them—"

"Der," he interrupted. "I'm not going to forget." His blue eyes narrowed. "I see what this is about. You think that I'm going to forget about you over the summer." He sighed. "I love you Deryn. I'm not just going to forget about you. It's just two months."

"Cam, I love you too… But I'm scared. I'm scared that you'll forget, or I'll forget, or my Da is going try to keep me in Glasgow for good this time. It's as if there's always something for me to worry about. Some danger that'll toss itself into out way."

"There's no danger," he told her. He grabbed her hands and pulled her close to him. "If you feel like you're forgetting, just think of me and the garden. Think of all the work we put into making it live again. Then you'll be safe and sound."

"I'll miss you, Cam."

"I love you Deryn. Don't forget that."


	22. I Didn't Tell You?

**A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this down in my journal and I just found the time type this up! It's another Sophie and Christian drabble :) I just really like writing for them :) Responses for reviews (because I didn't do this last time _Ellie Stone_: D'awwww thanks! This was one of those rare moments of inspiration. It was actually one of the only lines that stayed the same from the original piece that I had scribbled down in my journal :) _Jett-Wolfe98_: I love Mumford & Sons! They're one of my favorite bands at the moment :) I did write one for _Safe & Sound_! It's chapter 21 :) _Knight Mistress_ and _Second Daughter of Eve_: Thanks :) I'm glad you enjoy it ;) _Tallvious_:__ Hahaha! I'm sorry that I make you contemplate murder, but sometimes when something really crappy happens in your life, you feel like you have to kill off a character. So whenever I'm pissed, I kill theoretical people :)__ _Winterowl312_:__ I really loved all of your reviews. I like how you're not afraid to articulate your opinions! Thanks for that :) I'm glad chapter 20 gained your seal of approval :) Now on with the fic!**

"Sophie?" He pleaded. "Please say something. Anything… I can't stand it when you're quiet." Nothing came out of her. Here eyes remained fixed on the paper in her hands, the tears that fell from her eyes dripped onto the letter, glistening against the dull ink. "Please, Soph… I tried everything to get out of it. I even asked Dr. Barlow to make some excuse about a bum knee, but the military doctor caught me. I got into so much trouble, Soph. He called me unpatriotic." She let out a small, light chuckle and wiped away the tears from her eyes.

"My family has given so much to this country. I would have thought—" she broke off, unable to say anything more. Christian took the paper out of Sophie's hands and put it on the farthest table away from her.

"Your family has done so much, that's true. They worked so hard to keep me from going and I would've been in France months ago rather than just a few days from now."

"I don't want you to leave at all, Chris. I don't want to worry about whether or not you're going to be alive every day. I already have to do that with art."

"And your brother is always fine. Just like I'll be." He reached for her hands but she pulled away and turned around. Christian sighed and sat down on the settee next to her. "I don't want this and you know it."

"I know," she whispered, "which is why tomorrow I'm going to speak with the Prime Minister." She turned back to face him, the usual clever glint of her eyes manifesting itself. "I'll call Churchill and tell him that he can't send you to war because you're helping me with my work. It's per—"

"Perfect?" He asked her confusedly. "Perfect? Lying to the prime minister to get me out of the war is perfect? I would have thought that coming from your family you would know that lying doesn't get you anywhere." He got up from the couch and picked up the letter again, feeling the thing paper against his rough hands. "If I don't go, some other man will, and who knows, maybe he's a father or the only one supporting his family? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let that happen. You don't need me, Soph. You have a job that you love and are amazing at. You don't need me around to hold your hand."

Sophie looked to the floor; her soft hand rested atop the head of their phone. She didn't make the move, so Christian went to her. Because that's how they worked. She would never make the first move, so it was always up to him to close the chasm. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into him. Her soft, fine hair smelled of the tangerine scented shampoo that she was so fond of. "I'll miss that smell, you know," he said into her hair.

He felt her sigh. "I'm going to miss you so much, Chris. Promise me you'll be careful? That you'll at least come back alive?"

"At least?"

"Well, I don't mind a little maiming or scarring. I can fix _that._ I can't bring you back to life," she said bluntly.

"Is resurrection too complex for the great Sophie Chotek?" He challenged.

"It's against the law," she said matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes. "And your family has never done _anything_ against the law."

"We've called a moratorium on the law-breaking." It was his turn to laugh now. Sophie turned around in his arms and her blue eyes bore into his. "But seriously, try to come back alive? There's so much we still have to do."

"Like what? I thought you were going to be the cool, genius spinster aunt. "She hit him in the chest but smiled nonetheless.

"I want to marry you someday, and I can't do that if you're dead can I?"

"I'm quite sure it's very illegal to marry a dead body," he pointed out.

"Exactly," she agreed. "And you have to be around to raise our child."

"Thinking that far into the future are we, Sophie? In that case I want six of them, all strapping boys like me."

"I can't have six children with you if you're dead."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Again, all sorts of illegal."

"Right. And how am I supposed to raise our child without a father? They'll end up like Uncle Newkirk!"

"This theoretical child is getting awfully realistic." He thought out loud. "Is there something you want to tell me, Sophie?"

"Didn't I tell you?" She asked innocently. "I'm pregnant."


	23. The Reflection

******A/N: Hey guys, I'm really sorry to say this, but I'm going to be taking a break from writing for a bit. Unfortunately, I am failing English at the moment (Shocker, I know), so I am going to take a break to study a little more. I will be writing drabbles here and there, but _I Can't Breathe Because..._ is being put on indefinite hold. Hopefully, I will be able to start again over the summer :S **

**_Jett_: I'm debating whether to kill off Christian or not.  
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**_ColorTheSky:_ Thanks! I'm always going for tears, and I totally agree with the Jaspert thing. I have great things planned for him in the future :)  
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**_Second Daughter of Eve:_ I know right. One of my sisters-in-law did that to my brother after he told her that he had joined the Navy. Sophie is based heavily on her :) She's awfully blunt :)  
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**_EllieStone:_ I'm glad my writing brings out strong emotions. It brings me joy :)  
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**_Winterowl312:_ Someday, I will go to Wisconsin and we can freak out together. You're one of my favorite reviewers and I'm always ecstatic to hear what you have to say :)  
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**Anyway, I feel like I have to introduce this next drabble. It's not fluffy, or romantic, or funny, in any sort of way. This one is serious, and deep. It feels really shallow to say it's deep, but it is true. This is the deepest piece I have ever written.**

Deryn stares at herself in the mirror, and what does she see? She sees that her hips are too wide and her thighs disproportional. She sees that her breasts are two sizes too small for her body, and make her chest look like a four-year-old's. Her stomach is smaller than she would like it to be and it caves inwards like a funhouse mirror. Her arms are long and thin and remind her of lifeless chicken bones. But what irks her most is that her hair, which is a blonde so pale that it makes her look albino

So Deryn frowns with her too-thin lips, and her pale eyelids cover half of her light blue eyes, while she grabs her bindings, which take away those non-existent breasts. Next she puts on her trousers, which cover her wide hips, and then her shirt, the one that has the larger sleeves to hide her bony arms arms, but cover up the bindings on her chest. There is not much that she can do with her hair except gel it back with bad-smelling gel. The smell will give her a headache later, but it's all right because the pain will remind her that she is still alive.

Deryn crawls into the little hole inside the back of her brain as Dylan scrambles to the surface, bringing into the reflection an air of intelligence and confidence. There are no empty spaces behind Dylan's eyes, no emptiness that never seems to go away. Dylan is strong and sure. He is the one whose shoulder his friends cry on and look to for advice. He is the one who is always dependable and can be counted on to crack a witty joke. Dylan is loved by all while Deryn sits alone in her a lonely corner.

When Dylan gets hit, he shrugs it off and says that it was no big deal. That he will live. They ask him if he is alright.

"I'm fine," Dylan says, smirking at the preposterous question. Deryn cries inside, and panics at how very untrue that statement was. When Dylan sees Alek, he simply ignores the burning and tossing in his gut. Dylan does not feel the pain or the sorrow, or anything by that fact. He is the thick glass that surrounds the snow-globe and keeps all of the water inside. But even the sturdiest glass can break, and when it does, Deryn comes flooding out, spilling herself all over the floor.

Deryn feels the words of people that hate her as she takes off her shirt and exposes her bindings. She feels the comments of how unfeminine she is as she slips off her trousers. She remembers when they used to call her "plank" at home as she undoes her bindings.

Dylan is gone now, and all that is left is Deryn. Deryn and the tear trails left from the disappointment that is flooding down her face.

**A/N: REMEMBER TO REVIEW!**


	24. POTATOES!

**A/N: It's exam week! Which means that I'm going to be completely bored for the next week because I only have five exams :) I'm so happy! Thank you all for the amazing reviews, but I don't have time to go over them individually. I just want to respond to Julia456. I just want to say that although your point is very true, I believe that Deryn does have that sort of disconnect with her persona, and that every woman has a body image problem at some point in their life. I think that Deryn does look at the mirror and does think that she is not sexy or beautiful enough because she does not at any moment think of herself fully as a woman. She has more of the mindset of a boy in order to act more convincingly and when she does face the realization that she is female, she faces her complex. But you're very right to say that she wouldn't have a body image problem. I just think differently. **

**So this is my entry to the Dalek Week contest on Deviantart for the BONUS day! Here is Potatoes!**

"Alek, what in the name of Darwin are these?"

"They're potatoes, liebe. Just like you asked."

"These _things_ are not potatoes."

"Yes they are."

"They're all strippy and long!"

"Because they're stripped."

"They look like carrots! These are not potatoes!"

"Stop playing with your food."

"They look like.. like.."

"Like what, liebe?"

"Now I'm embarassed to say."

"What were—oh…"

"Yeah."

"That's just fantastic! Now _I _can't even eat them!"

"These americans and their obsession with phallic symbols?"

"I see someone's been reading Freud on her spare time."

"Oh, shut it."

"I'm just saying it's very interesting. He's German, by the way. And besides, they call these 'french fries'."

"Those no good French! I knew they would have something to do with this! They always make twisted abominations out of everything!"

"*facepalm* I give up"

"And this is why I wear the pants in the relationship."


	25. Summer Afternoons

The girl was lying on the boys lap, her hair starkly bright in the contrast of his dark trousers. She silently sketched on the pages of the sketchbook propped up on her knees, while the boy silently read an old thick volume. The boys gaze was captured in rapt attention over his glasses at the small typed words bound in the hardcover book. The girl sighed a rather theatrical sigh and looked up at the boy.

"I don't understand how you can read for that long," she said.

"I don't understand how you can sketch for so long," he answered, putting his finger on the line he would read next.

"What are you reading?" She asked, hoisting herself up.

"_Il Principe_," he told her. "_The Prince_," he elaborated at her elevated eyebrows.

"What's it about?" She peered over his shoulder at the typed font. "A prince who has to rescue a princess? No, that's an awful story. The princess has to rescue the prince. That sounds better."

He laughed at her enthusiasm for fantastical stories. "No, liebe. It's about government."

"Ugh." Her face fell, and the girl threw herself back onto the grass. The blades of grass tickled her bare neck and weaved itself between her hair. "Why must you always read books about politics and war?"

The boy folded the corner of the page he was on and put the book on the grass before easing himself down to his elbows. "Because I've already lived the fairytale liebe." And so he kissed her. In the middle of the meadow, under the dying sunlight, in the middle of the first of many summers they would kiss in.


	26. Shattered on a Stone

**A/N: I know right? Three whole posts in one day! But apparently I can, so I will. The past three (from POTATOES until now) were written for Dalek Week on Deviantart :) Check it out for me! This is by far one of the most depressing things I have ever written and I was very sad. This is about World War II and the title was inspired by a poem called "Butterfly" by Pavel Friedmann. Funny enough, it was written about a ghetto, not a battle field. Enjoy and remember to review!**

Christian ducked behind the rock as a shell fell into the dirt in front of him. He was panting from the fear that blinded him as he ran through the blood-soaked mud. So many had fallen. He didn't know how he had not yet joined the ranks of his brothers in arms. God was with him, he supposed. Sophie would laugh at him if she heard his religious thoughts. Her face came into his mind. He could recall what she had looked like the last time he saw her, and it was as if she were there with him in the field. Her soft mahogany hair had been pinned and curled to perfection, bouncing around her blotchy face. He hadn't wanted her to cry. If he could have avoided it, she would never cry ever again. At least not tears of pain and sadness as she had when she saw him boarding the military airship on that rainy day. She ran as the airship left, as if—if she could run fast enough—she could catch up the ship and stop him from going. She was so beautiful, even in her desperation.

With a crash, Christian was catapulted back into the bloody and death-filled present. He grasped his gun tightly and stepped out from behind the rock. A flying manta ray fabrication had crashed in front of him.

From what he could see, the pilot was most definitely dead, unless, of course, a man could survive his head being disconnected from his body, which Christian doubted one could. In the mud next to the manta ray's destroyed wing, was a simple wood rosary, handmade, by the looks of it, and made of beautiful non-fabricated mahogany. He picked it up and wound it around his hand. His fingers pressed hard carved roses on each individual bead.

_If you're up there, God, _he prayed. _Protect Sophie and the baby. Don't make them suffer—_There was another crash, but this time, there was nothing to shield him from the blows of mud and debris and in his last coherent thoughts, Christian could have swore he heard Sophie whisper into his ear, in a low, faintly wracked voice, "I love you."

* * *

><p>Sophie looked out the window of their flat. The day was dreary, as it always was in London. The heavy grey clouds never seemed to move from their positions. If she were honest, the looming landscape just made her lonelier. There was no one on the streets at this time of the day. Too much work and learning to be done for any free time.<p>

Sophie directed herself to the sofa and sat down onto the soft cushions as they molded themselves around her enlarged figure. She picked up a pen from the coffee table and her stationary pad.

_Dearest Christian,_ she began writing, but promptly scratched it out. _My love,_ she tried again, only to angrily scratch it out again. _Chris_, she penned, and smiling to herself, began writing the following line. _How is France? It's raining like no tomorrow here in London. The skies seem to have a vendetta against my plans for a walk in Regent's Park. Why was I planning to go to Regent's Park for a stroll when there is a war going on, you might ask. To which I will respond by saying that the Society quietly suggested (more like forced, actually) that I begin my maternity leave. I told them it was preposterous since I am only twenty-four weeks pregnant, but they were quite adamant about my leaving. I miss you, Christian. I am terribly bored here without you. My mother is always working, and my father is translating decrypted messages for the Admiralty. I have nothing to do here. Artemis only wrote for the first few weeks and you did the exact same! Have you forgotten about me, Christian? Have you decided to leave me for a voluptuous French lassie? I demand—_

A knock sounded at the door and Sophie nearly jumped out of her skin. The pen fell out of her hand and slid onto the carpet. Cursing at herself for her stupidity and paranoia, she went to answer the door.

The man on the other side of the door was a soldier. From his drab grayish green uniform, Sophie could discern that he was an army Officer, and a very young one. He had no tags that told her his rank or any medals from combat.

"Good evening ma'am," he said with a deep voice and took off his cap. "Are you Miss Sophie Sharp-Chotek?"

Sophie leaned into her doorway. "Yes, I am."

"Miss Sharp-Chotek, I am very sorry for your loss," he said to her simply and handed her a small yellow envelope. Sophie tore the envelope from his fingers and held it in her swollen fingers tightly.

"You've got to be mistaken," she told him in a quavering voice. The envelope crackled under her hands and she tore her nail through the top. The letter inside was not long and did not contain any embellishments. It said what it needed to say and at the end, all Sophie could ask was: "are you sure he's dead?"

"He's been missing for two weeks in the field, miss. No one stays missing that long."

"But he could be alive somewhere?"

"Miss," the officer sighed. They, the wives and mothers of the fallen, often responded this way. "Soldiers found his pack and his tags in the mud." A look of recalling swept over his face and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small square photo. "They also found this," and he handed it to her.

Sophie broke out into quiet weeping for the first time since she had said goodbye to Christian. The picture was of her on the pier when they had gone to Brighton the week before he left. She ran her thumb over the image of her looking out to the beach. The version of her in the picture wasn't looking at the camera, but sitting and looking out into the horizon. He had caught her profile in the evening sunlight. She chuckled slightly to herself then. "I can't bring you back," she said with his handsome face pictured in her head. When his nearly black hair covered his blue eyes in her imagination she simply said: "it's all kinds of illegal."


	27. Stars Part 3: Light of the Dead

**A/N: I can now respond! YAY! But I'm only going to do the more recent ones :(**

_**Second Daughter of Eve:**_** You know I love making you cry and you read this while listening to "Bleeding Love"? Did you cause lakes to form?**

_**Sassysplash:**_** I always imagined Alek wearing reading glasses for some reason :) I'm glad you approve :)**

_**Frogster:**_** LOL! I watched **_**Snow White and the Huntsman **_**and I just thought it was the most stupid story I've ever seen. Completely anti-femisist. I had to write something feminist :) And I know it's sad for Sophie to lose Christian, but I really don't think I'm going to bring him back. The reason for that is because both Alek and Deryn have survived the Great War, and so I think that it's unfair that there hasn't been a representation of the fallen soldiers. There were so many pregnant wives left at home who never saw their husbands again, their children never saw their fathers. I needed to show that. If I didn't, I would have to kill Artemis, and that would go against my previous story arcs. Sorry :( I really like Christian as well. He was one of my favorites, but, unfortunately, he had to die.**

_**Sassyd:**_** Oh I know about "Love the Way You Lie"! I have all of the Punk Goes… CD's (yes I still own those). I just always thought "You Belong with Me" in screamo was more entertaining because is the bubblegum pop princess of the World. It's ironic. I like irony :) Irony makes writing smart :)**

**Okay, really long (but overdue) note. This fic can either go into the Parents or Generations category in the contest. What do you guys think? Leave a comment below :)**

"Artemis!" Alek called out to the garden from the porch. Once again, he felt as if he were the father of a teenager, rather than the one of a grown man. The inky night sky was peppered with dim stars. There were not many bright ones out tonight. The old man gave up on yelling out his son's name and decided to commence the search himself. He was old, yes, but not so old to stop being a parent.

When he and Deryn had built the farm, she had insisted on keeping the forest as intact as possible. She enjoyed walking there, between the trees, and occasionally climbing one or two. She would spend hours sketching the bark of the tall spruces, and would study the veins of the pine leaves and cones. She'd draw squirrels jumping off branches and hummigbirds drinking the nectar of Alek's beloved hydrangeas. But, by far, her favorite place in the forest was a tiny clearing in the middle of the woods, where the trees did not near each other as much. Their branches were far apart enough to leave a gap between the treetops, the perfect spot to watch the stars in peace.

Where else would Art be other than in that same clearing? So Alek walked slowly, careful not to trip over the darkened branches, towards his son, who was lying on his back, his face turned up towards the sky. For a brief moment, Alek saw a teenager on that grass. He saw a young boy who had just broken up with his girlfriend and was thinking of ways to get her back. He saw Deryn walking towards their son, her short hair bobbing behind her as she went. She had never lost that airman's swagger or her preference for short hair. "Artemis?" He asked, and he was in the pitch-black night again; his son was a grown man again, and his knees ached with arthritis.

"I'm here, da." Art responded from the ground. Though his joints protested, Alek lay down next to his son on the ground. From there, a circle formed by the silhouette of leaves framed the sky. The stars seemed brighter from there. "Do you think she's watching us from up there?"

"I have no doubt." He said honestly. "Your mother once told me that when she died she would become a star."

Alek could imagine his wife smiling at his answer. "I never understood ma's obsession with stars."

"Stars are giant balls of gas that are burning millions of miles away in the sky," he explained. "When they die, their light keeps travelling in space. So, really, the stars we see here are really just the light of dead stars."

"That's a nice thought." Artemis agreed. "We can see their light even after they're gone."

Alek looked back at the stars. He thought of all the times he sat with Deryn and looked at the dead fire. He remembered giving her a star of her own on their first Christmas, and standing under them as he proposed. The stars had seen their first kiss, and their first anniversary. They had been present through ever anniversary, birthday, birth, and death. They had heard laughs, cries, and fights. The stars had watched over them since he could remember. Deryn would always be his love, his mentor, and his guiding star. He looked back to his son, whose hair shone brightly against the dark ground, and simply agreed: "Just like your mother."


	28. Push

**A/N: I figured you were SassyD, but I wasn't sure. I ordered the CDs online in a bundle, so I'm not sure if you can still get them. As for the mustaches and glasses, I wrote a (very bad) drabble about mustaches in November. I believe it is Chapter 3 in this fic. And _Frogster, _I'm glad you liked that. I think that it would be nice if we al turned to stars once we died. I decided that Chapter 26 will be my parents submission and this next one will be my generatios submission. Enjoy!**

"PUSH!" Deryn yelled at her daughter and Sophie screamed in pain as she grasped tighter onto her mother's. The older woman wasn't sure if her hands were going to make it out of there alive and functioning. Sophie relaxed back onto her pillows, panting.

"We're going to need another big push, Sophie." Dr. Barlow said from the foot of the bed. She turned around to Ma Sharp and told her: "We need more hot towels."

Deryn looked at her daughter. The girl was exhausted and her mahogany hair was plastered onto her face by sweat. "You're almost there, liebe."

"Ma," Sophie began between breaths, "I am never having another child."

Deryn laughed. "I said the same thing after I had your brother. Look how well _that _turned out."

"I'm serious, Ma." She said, and the smile on Deryn's face disappeared. "I don't think I could do that to Chris."

"Alright, liebe." Deryn squeezed her daughter's hand and the girl screamed again.

"This is it Sophie!" Dr. Barlow said. "Push!"

Sophie grunted and squeezed Deryn's hand in a vice grip. Her grunt turned into a scream and her pale face turned a deep shade of red under her concentration. And then there was a piercing cry that filled the room. Sophie fell back in the bed and put her legs down.

"Congratulations," Dr. Barlow said while wrapping the newborn in a soft blanket. "It's a boy."

Sophie put her arms up. Everything hurt, but she wanted to hold her son more than anything. "Give him to me." Dr. Barlow eased the little bundle into her arms and Sophie pulled the blanket away from his tiny face. "Hello there," she said as she rocked him in her arms. There was a tiny little tuft of black hair jutting out from his otherwise bald head. "You look exactly like your father, little boy."

"What are you going to name him?" Deryn asked.

"Christian," she said automatically. "Christian Aleksandar Gurd." Suddenly, tears started to pour from her eyes. The longing for Christian was overwhelming her in the motional state she was in. "Your father was a great man." She told the tiny child. "He was kind, smart, and he always made me laugh. He would always say that I was much too good for him, but he had it all wrong." She gave a small smile. "He was too good for me." The tears started welling up more in her eyes and Deryn took little boy from her daughter's arms. "I miss him."


	29. Obsession

**A/N: _Second Daughter of Eve_: Not to sound sadistic but that brings me joy :)**

**_Frogster_: Deryn seems like an amazing labor coach ;) and Dr. Barlow would probably be in her mid to late 60's in this fic so she would still be capable of delivering children :) And I've heard about the "children seeming like their dead parents" thing, but I hadn't thought about it when I was writing. I think that there will be a fic soon about how Sophie is dealing with being a new single mother.  
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**_ThAtOtHeRpSyCoPaTh_: Thank you! I was worried that people would want to yell at me for killing Christian off, but I'm glad you understood that there was no way around it :)  
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**WOW. 80 Reviews. I don't even know how to thank you all for sticking with me for so long and being so supportive. It honestly means a lot to me that you all take the time out of your lives to give me feedback and even just _read_ my writing. Thank you all so much :) This one is nice and short! I haven't written something this short in a _long_ time... Once again, this is for Dalek Week. I still have one category left, and it's Roaring 20's. Any ideas?**

"Mummy." Deryn heard Max say as he pulled on her pants. "What's an obsession?"

Deryn blinked for a moment before putting the newspaper she had been reading on the table and looking at her youngest son. "Why do you ask, darling?"

Max let go of her pants and climbed up onto her lap. "Sophie says I have an obsession with Lizzie Wheeler from next door."

Deryn laughed and ruffled her son's dark hair. She had no idea where the black hair had come from, but for some reason, her little accident had been the only one to be born with it. "An obsession is like a fixation."

Max's eyebrows furrowed around his green eyes. "What's a fixation?"

She sighed and tried again. "It's when you are so interested in something that it's all you can think about or talk about."

There was a flash of recognition in her seven-year-old son's eyes, and then he exclaimed: "Like you and Da!"

**A/N: No seriously, any ideas for Roaring 20's? I'm completely blank.**


	30. Blindfold

**A/N: _ThAtOtHeRpSyChOpAtH_: Wow, your username is hard to write. My nephew is at the "Why" and "No" stage. It drives me crazy. Christian being one of your favorite characters has just made my day :) Understanding his death and not hating me has just made my month :) Your suggestion sounds a bit like _The Artist. _I can't get that film out of my head at the moment. **

**_Frogster _and _Second Daughter of Eve: _Love the Flapper/Speakeasy idea! I can just imagine Deryn taking Alek to a speakeasy and Alek getting really drunk :) And thank you both for your reviews!  
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"No peaking!" Deryn said as she swatted down her brother's hand. Jaspert had been trying to peak out of the bottom of his blindfold but she just wouldn't let him! The whole affair was quite frustrating. "Am I going to have to glue it to your eyes?"

"No…" He said, defeated. "Can you at least give me a clue as to what you're planning on giving me?"

"Not even a sliver of a chance, Jaspert." She laughed and kept pulling him in an unknown direction. "There's a step now."

Jaspert stopped. "Up or down?"

"Down." He heard her say and he dangled his foot forward. "Are you going to step down or what, bum-rag?"

His foot hit the step and so he kept moving downwards. "It would help if I could actually _see _where I was going." Jaspert pointed out.

"Stop whining." She reprimanded. "We're nearly there." He could feel her scowling behind him. The road they had been walking became irregular and cobbled once they had reached the bottom of the stairs. Jaspert nearly tripped several times on the stone path and cursed his sister under his breath. "I can hear you, you clart! Now, stop." He stopped in his tracks and he felt Deryn untie his blindfold.

The midday sunlight spilt into his eyes and the brightness nearly blinded him. A band started playing and there was applause all around him. The white spots in his vision began clearing and Jaspert saw that there was a crowd of beaming people surrounding him. He was confused for only a moment before his eyes trailed over to what lay dead in front of him. There was a stage and behind it a monument, a bit like a tower with a bronze sculpture of an airman in his uniform. On the plaque, it said:

_Jaspert Sharp War Memorial_

_In Honour of all who fell in the Great War June 28__th__, 1915- November 11__th__, 1919_

Jaspert heard Deryn clear her throat from behind him. "So…" She said. He turned around to face her, the look in his eyes a mixture of admiration, love, and gratitude that can only be described as awe. Deryn, in all fitting spirits, rolled her eyes at his hair-brained expression. "Do you like it?"

Jaspert grabbed his sister and pulled her into a massive bear hug that was only ever reserved for her. "It's perfect." The darkness had been worth it.


	31. After the Storm

**A/N: So... I'll have you all know that I am suffering from intense Writer's block and therefore will not be publishing anything in _I Can't Breathe Because..._ for a while. Sorry. I have to work and I can't seem to get any writing done lately.**

**_danipayne: _Thanks for both of the reviews!  
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**_ThAtOtHeRpSyChOpAtH: _Your username never gets easier to write -_-" But I love your reviews nonetheless! AND THAT IS SUPER CREEPY! How did the dancing go?  
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**_Second Daughter of Eve: _I know! I was half expecting her to throw her brother into a vat of sludge ;)  
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**I am warning you now, this one is depressing. I haven't written a depressing one in a while... REMEMBER TO REVIEW!**

"I'm still mad at you." Sophie said bluntly. "I don't think I'll ever stop being mad at you. The problem is, if I don't stay angry at you, then I'll miss you and, Darwin forbid, I'll start forgiving you. Junior is fine. We're having his birthday party on Saturday. The whole family is coming you know. My mum and dad, Artemis and his family, your parents, and even your sister! I'm actually quite surprised she's coming…"

There was a light breeze and Sophie pulled down her beanie so it covered her ears. "Our son wrote you a letter the other day. He wouldn't let me read it. Said it was, and I quote, 'rude to read other people's letters'." She chuckled lightly. "I swear he gets more like you every day. It doesn't help that he looks _exactly_ like you either. I swear if cloning were possible, I would have been accused of it by now." She paused for a moment before kneeling on the grass.

"I went to see your parents the other day. I still haven't gotten used to visiting them. Your mum has been the one solid thing in my life since you left. She keeps spoiling your son. I swear he's going to be obese if he spends any more time with her." There was an awkward silence as the echo of her words drifted out across the field.

Sophie tightened her hold on her coat, pulling it closer to her body, and gave a quick toss of her head to get a rebellious strand of hair out of her face. "Your dad still can't seem to look Junior in the face," she finally continued. "It's funny because he seems to have no problem talking to me. Actually, it's not very funny. It's sad. Junior doesn't know what he's doing wrong, but he knows that there's something going on. Sharp as my mother's last name that boy is. He asked me if it was because he looks like you. I told him it was because he's as amazing as you are." Her fingers shook as she wiped a lone tear that was trailing down her cold cheek.

"I tell him stories every night about me an you. He asks me how we met and how we fell in love. He's so curious." Tears started clouding her vision and she had to blink to get rid of her blurred vision. "He asks me why talking about you makes me sad, why it makes me cry sometimes, and I don't ever know what to say. When is it going to get easier, Chris? When am I going to stop thinking about you and move on with my life? It's been more than six years. Six _goddamn _years. How do I move on, huh? How do I stop seeing your face everywhere I look? How do I stop getting my hopes up every time I hear a knock on the door? How do I stop hoping to hear your laugh or see your smile or smell that god-awful aftershave you insist on using—" She broke off.

She hadn't noticed that she had been raving on without even stopping for a breath. She stared at the solid piece of rock as if expecting a reaction from it. The tombstone stayed ensconced in the grass, where it had been since November 16th, 1942. It didn't move, or yell, or fight back, but rather just stayed as it would for however long it would. Sophie's shoulders sagged in disappointment and tears stopped running from her face. When she finally looked back up, her green eyes were puffy and far dimmer than when she had first kneeled at the grave. With her long fingers she traced the words engraved on the stone before grasping the top of it tightly, making her knuckles go white. "How do I stop loving you?"


	32. When the World Comes Down

**A/N: I'm glad you're all depressed now. This one is kind of neutral. I was listening to my iPod when I got inspired by an old song. This was inspired by _Mona Lisa (When the World Comes Down) _by The All-American Rejects, so I strongly suggest you listen to it. **

Alek and Deryn sat on two garden chairs, sipping beer, on top of a hill. It wasn't a particularly large hill, but it was just large enough so that they could watch the town in the valley below them burn. Between the chairs sat a bucket full of ice and full beer bottles.

Deryn was the first to break the fitful silence. "Why do you think humans are so stupid?" She asked before taking another sip of her beer.

"Why are you asking me?"

She shrugged. "You're the one who reads all of those books about battles and dead people."

"I suppose. They haven't taught me much about helping the world if that's what you're asking." He told her.

"It was what I was asking. Here's a better question: how will we know what we can do better?"

"We don't. We all need help." Deryn nodded and looked back down to the burning valley. People ran out of buildings and car. The more desperate ones jumped out of windows. All were fleeing the flames that surrounded the once prosperous village. "If the world does come down, though," Alek said, "I want to be sitting next to you."

Deryn smiled at him. "You can sit beside me when the world comes down."


	33. Windsong

**A/N: I should really start working instead of writing when I'm supposed to be working :S Hehehe... Well then, three updates in one day! I'm so proud of myself! I'm totally in love with the Traffic Stats thing that FF now offers! I can actually check how many people are reading my writing now :) I can even see what month y'all viewed what in! I know it's creepy, but it really boosts up my ego to know that there are so many hits :D**

**_Second Daughter of Eve: _****That's what the lyrics of the song say! They paint a lovely picture of what the world ending would look like and it's a song about love :) And that's just how it played out in my head!**

**_TheMonstrumologi:_**** Jett? Is that you? Don't hate me :'(**

**_ThAtOtHeRpSyChOpAtH: _****I was in ballet for about a decade :) I know what pointe shoes are and I know that they're medieval torture devices wrapped in silk. Your routine and costumes sound absolutely fantastic :) Can you link me a pic or a vid (PM of course)? And D'awwwwww! You make me blush :) I am very morbid XD**

**This chapter is weird. I thought it was a funny idea and I kind of got carried away *blushes*. When I wrote this, I thought it was hilarious, which means you're all going to think this is really weird :S I have a weird brain. I'm sorry *looks down in shame***

Artemis and Julia looked as if they were both either going to faint or loose their eyes due to popping. One or the other. Alek, on the other hand, was about to burst into laughter. As much as he was trying to control himself and not laugh, the mirth was bubbling in his stomach and about to burst out of him. He didn't know what was funnier, his son and daughter-in-law's expressions or his granddaughter's ridiculous clothing.

"Ma? Da?" Deryn said as she waved her hand in front of her parent's faces. The tassels of her jacket waived under her forearm and nearly hit them in the face.

"Sunshine? Are your units, like, taking in your psychedelic energies or something?" The boy standing next to her asked in a lethargic voice.

"I don't think so, Windsong. I think they're just in shock." She told him. "Maybe you should go outside and reconnect with nature's spirit?"

'Windsong' seemed to contemplate this for a moment before nodding his head and saying "far out."

There was a long winding pause of silence as the three adults stared at Deryn with a mixture of shock and confusion. Artemis was the first one to break out of shock. "Wha-Who? Whe-I-you-Wh-Windsong?" He managed to choke out.

Deryn broke out into a large grin. "His name is Michael. Windsong is the name that the mother gave to him." Alek burst out into laughter, not being able to control himself any longer. He might have been old, but his sense of humor was still kicking. Deryn looked at him as if he were the one with flowers woven through his hair and dyed clothes. "What's so funny?"

"Windsong?" He asked her after calming down his laughter. "What person chooses to be named that?"

Deryn's tanned cheeks flushed bright red. "The mother gave him that name and we respect all of her decisions. Windsong is a wonderful lover and he understands the needs of my body and my soul. Together we peer into our mind's eye and feel the movements of the earth inside us."

"Well," Alek said. "At least you're not peering at anything else."


	34. Moments

**A/N: ****_Second Daughter of Eve: _****I'm so sorry, I should have written that more clearly :( My brain is like a stampede of ideas, so sometimes I get really confused and ramble on and on (like I'm doing now) and forget that other people aren't the same brand of crazy as me. That was supposed to be Little Deryn, Alek's granddaughter. Since I imagine her being a teenager/young adult in the 60's and since she's been living in New York, she joins the hippie movement. Thus, she becomes "Sunshine". Does that make sense?**

_**Thatotherpsychopath: **_**I'm too tired to add the caps to your username. I hope you don't mind -_-" I'm happy you enjoy my imagery! My teachers have always agreed that it's the only category in which I do not lack creativity .O**

_**Middy Miles:**_** I'm glad you got the gist of the fic. I reread it and I was lost so I'm glad you got my crazy brain rambling. Now you've given me an idea for Deryn as a really old flower child... hehehe *insert evil laugh here***

**This fic is choppy. My friend challenged me to write a fic only in fragmented sentences a la Jenny Downham. Brilliant writer, Jenny Downham. If you haven't read ****_Before I Die, _****give it a go, it's an incredible novel, and it's being adapted into a film with Dakota Fanning (with a british accent!) and the fabulously tasty Jeremy Irvine (he's actually really cute sans le weird ****_War Horse_**** hair)! Remember to review!**

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><p>Moments. Life is made up of moments. Events captured in pictures that are filed in the grand library that is your brain. They are saved for those days when you need the reminder. A reminder of that moment.<p>

A girl. Her blonde hair bound in knots at the nape of her neck. A small smile playing on the corner of her pink lips. Blue eyes glittering in the bright lights. Her moment.

A boy. Awkward in his stiff suit. Yearning to itch his gel-filled hair. His green eyes meet hers. He forgets everything. His moment.

Side by side they stand. The girl in her white dress and the boy in his stiff black suit. She inches her hand over to him. He grabs it.

They are united. In their eyes, they share the moment.


	35. Comfort

**A/N: For all of you who guessed the last fic was wedding, you were right! I've wanted to write a wedding fic for a while, but I was.. well... I was scared that I wouldn't do it right... hehe... *awkwardly scratches head in awkwardness* **

_**Giselle Pink: **_**Thanks! I do try to be cute!**

_**WolfishMoon:**_** You laughed? I actually made someone laugh? O.O That is a first for me :D THANK YOU T.T**

_**boneer:**_** I had to do a double take to see what I wrote to make me your hero. Then I saw what it was. Thank you *takes off top hat and bows***

**Anyway... This is a follow-up to the previous chapter. Remember to review!**

There's something to be said about the comfort that one feels while watching a loved one sleep. It's a feeling of mesmorizing intimacy and closeness. It shows the sleeper in their most vulnerable state, the one that is open to anything.

Deryn brushed away Alek's mahogany hair from where it had covered his face. There were no haggard expressions, or fatigue etched upon the smooth white skin of his face. There was no worry furrowing his brow. There was only peace.

A small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she sat up on her side of the bed, but still remained close to him. She gently ran her hand across his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his night shirt.

He stirred beneath her and then opened his bright eyes. "Good morning, wife."


	36. It's Finally Okay to Miss You

**A/N: So, I suppose I owe everyone who cares to read my A/Ns an explanation. The truth is that I was going to start writing again once Christmas break started. And I really was! I swear. I even have rough copies of drabbles that I was going to edit before publishing. **

**But then a friend of mine died over the break. He was sixteen. He was a little kid. He had barely started living. **

**The fact is that I couldn't bring myself to write. I tried letting my feelings out onto a word doc or a pad of paper, but I just... couldn't. There was nothing I could do about it. It's like I didn't have words anymore. I couldn't write essays or papers, I literally had no will of creativity. I had to talk to a councillor because I was having this huge complex about death and mysticism and I was just so lost in the world that I couldn't make enough sense to write a single sentence. I spoke to someone and they've been helping me. I'm trying to get back onto the horse.**

**So I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get back on my feet. To those of you who stuck around, thank you. I owe you a lot. Now to answer your reviews:**

**_Frogster: _****I had actually just watched ****_The Young Victoria_**** and I totally stole that idea :)**

**_Second Daughter of Eve: _****I'm glad you liked it :D**

**_averypottermormom: _****I love your username! It's totally awesome (get it?)! It means a lot to me that you like my writing :)**

**_thedarkenchanter63:_**** To be honest, I bawled writing half of these drabbles. In fact, I bawled writing this one. There is no shame in tears. **

**Without further ado, here is my comeback drabble:**

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><p>When you think about it, life is really insignificant. Our life spans are so short. There isn't really enough time in the world to be influential or important or make our "mark on the world." <em>What a silly expression,<em> Sophie thought to herself, smiling at her own remark. Every year on the same day, she would come back to walk through the grassy terrain, the heels of her shoes would get caked in mud, and her hair would always get ruffled. For the first time in twenty years, the perpetual greyness that hung in the sky was absent. Beams of sunlight hit her face and caused patches of her skin to feel the day's warmth.

_Today is a good day,_ she thought. She knelt down on the ground in front of the gravestone that she had been visiting for the past twenty years, now much more weathered and worn than it had been the first time Sophie had come here.

"Hello, my love." She began. "It's been a while hasn't it? I think the last time I was here was on Junior's birthday? Or was it on our anniversary? I can't really recall…" There was a pause for thought before she let out a small chuckle. "Time seems to just fly by now. The hours seem to have fewer minutes and the minutes seem to have fewer seconds. It's like the world has just decided to move at a quicker pace. Which is absurd really because that will never actually happen.

"Artemis finally gave in and let our niece continue her art lessons. I really don't understand why he's so against art. I mean our mother was one of the best artists we knew. Oh, Art… He's still having problems coming to terms with Ma's death. It's been four years. And it wasn't a huge shock like when you—" She broke off suddenly. Closing her eyes, Sophie brought back Christian's face in her mind's eye, and when she opened them, he was there, the projection of his image sitting in front of her. His jet-black hair was swept to the side like the fashion was in those days, and his eyes were the same dark blue as they had been the last time she saw him, contrasting against the drab vomit colored uniform he had passed in. Christian reached to grab her hand, and Sophie swore she felt it.

She inhaled the tepid air. "Junior brought home a girl last weekend. She's very pretty, Chris, and smart, too. Much smarter than your son. Don't pout at me mister, we both know that he might have my sharpness, but he got _your_ intelligence. He's still a bit daft like my Da."

Christian laughed soundlessly. "I don't give him enough credit. Not really. He's brilliant, Chris. You should be proud. I am."

It had been so long since she felt like this. Her heart contracted in its crypt, causing her to gasp out a breath. There wasn't enough air for her to breath, and the image of the boy she had fallen in love with suddenly wasn't enough to fill the gap that he had left in her chest. She hadn't even noticed she was crying until the phantasm wiped away her tears.

"You were so young, Chris. Junior is the same age you were when you left me. By Darwin's beard, we were twenty! What were we doing falling in love like that?

"Oh…" She sighed. "There's no such thing as dying young, is there? Whether we're a hundred years old or twenty years old, it doesn't matter. We're all on this earth for a limited engagement, and once we leave, we are nothing more than the memories we have left behind.

"I don't want to get over you." She said. "I don't have to. I have the memories you left me." The image of Christian faded from in front of her and Sophie was once again alone in front of the weathered tombstone.

"I can finally be happy about missing you."

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><p><strong>AN: Reviews are hugs and smiles to me, so please drop a comment :)**


	37. No One Does it Better

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY THAT I KEEP LETTING LIFE GET IN THE WAY. Scratching Cats! University is not easy :( There is a lot of work that I have to do. I'm sorry :( I'm in the process of changing my major from History to Drama right now so things are getting a little hectic on the academic front. **

_**Bramblepool:**_** Thank you for complementing my grammar? And death handling? No one's ever complimented my grammar before, so I'm not really sure what the right response to that is...? But thank you very much. It really means a lot :)**

_**Second Daughter of Eve: **_**I've missed you, bro. You know how much I love driving you into a depression ;)**

_**nenya61192:**_** OMG I AM SUCH A HUGE FAN OF YOURS! I ABSOLUTELY LOVED TIKAL! HOLY GOSH! Okay. Fan-girl freak out over. *carefully pulls down cardigan in attempt to salvage dignity* Thank you :) **

_**Anon:**_** I wish I knew who you are so I can properly thank you, but thank you...?**

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><p>He was sitting in the car watching the landscape go by through the window. The beautiful Austrian countryside passed by in a rush of greens, yellows, and browns. Alek watched his country go by in a blur, it seemed like it had been only a few days ago that he had been awakened by Volger and Klopp and told that he was to pilot the Walker at night. It had not been days, he knew, but instead years. Nevertheless, the countryside was timeless and ethereal, constant in comparison to the rapidly changing world beyond its borders.<p>

So much had changed. His life had changed. Alek himself had changed in so many innumerable ways. The stiff, conceited, and naïve fifteen-year-old prince was no longer present in his stance. No more was there air of superiority that had once been his identifier. No, that was all gone. In that young boy's place, now stood a clever young man, whose eyes were wise beyond their years, and accepting to anyone who was in need of acceptance.

Alek glanced down at the sleeping form of his wife, her head was resting on his lap while her body was curled up to fit on the two other seats of the back of the car. He stroked her fine, white-blond hair, letting the thin stands tickle the in-between of his fingers and the softness envelop his hand. Deryn looked so at peace with the rest of the world. Nothing could bother her in her sleep anymore; not since they had gotten married. There were still nightmares, of course, but they were now less frequent and only came after provocation.

The car hit a hole in the road, so Alek and Deryn flew to the top of the car. Deryn was abruptly awakened by the sudden jolt, and immediately sat up.

"What?" She asked, still a little dazed and groggy. "What's happened?" She looked around, taking in her surroundings.

"You're fine, love." Alek said to her. "We're in the car, remember?"

Deryn squeezed her eyes shut, and rubbed them angrily. "Yes, I remember." She said, a slight whine in her voice. "How long do we have left, anyway?"

Alek pulled out his gold pocket-watch from his jacket and checked the time. As always, he was greeted by Deryn's smiling face within it. "A few more minutes." He assured her. "I remember this road well. We just have to turn onto the next road and we'll be at the back entrance to the Palace."

"Right." Deryn said through gritted teeth. He knew that she hated this, the whole welcoming that they had to go through for Alek's coronation. They had to make their way out of the car and walk down the enormous staircase of the Palace to greet the media and the people of his country. Deryn could deal with the people and the press, that wasn't the issue. The issue was the clothing. Deryn had refused to conform to the traditionally stiff Austrian garments that Volger wished her to wear. Instead she wore what the fashionable city ladies of London wore. The fact that it was a dress was an improvement from earlier years. The fact that it was short and, well, shiny, was only slightly problematic. It was the best compromise they were going to get.

"You'll be fine." He assured her, sensing her worry. "Everyone loves you."

"Ha!" She laughed sarcastically. "They don't love me! They think that I'm a no good, godless, Scottish suffragette with the intentions of corrupting the Austrian monarch and turn him into a feminist." Deryn looked into his eyes through her own narrowed ones.

"Those aren't your intentions?" He asked sheepishly.

She slapped his arms lightly. "I'm serious! And don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about, I read the news, you know."

There was no way to get around that one, so he went with the other approach. "I don't care what they think. _I _love you. And that's all that really matters anyway."

"Nice try, your princeliness, but that doesn't work on me. At least not anymore." The car came to an abrupt halt and Deryn looked out the window to the large, looming castle ahead of her and squirmed slightly in her seat, the tassels on the hem of her dress swayed and caught the light seeping in from the window. Alek laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand lightly. Her shoulders relaxed only a bit.

Alek understood why she was nervous. Hell, he was nervous. He was going to take over a kingdom. "You'll be fine." He told her, although the words held more comfort for him than for her.

The car came slowly to a halt and an attendant opened the door. It was Alek who stepped out first, as he was the man, and then, as a good gentleman, he waited for his wife to come out so he could help her down the steps. Not that she needed him anyway. Deryn would do what she wished on her own terms, even it meant letting her lead a revolution again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: The title is a reference to the eponymous song by You Me At Six. It is an incredible song and I just can't stop listening to it. Here's a link: watch?v=dXrlPZYBvcQ **


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